I am pleased to announce that after a Herculean effort that lasted 2 solid weeks, my youngest daughter has gained the right to rent an apartment in McKinney, Texas, a place that is very proud to tell you that they have recently been named by CNN Money as the Number 2 best small city in America. The problem is that Rachael’s recent apartment hunt was not what one might imagine if you’re thinking Number 2 “best” city. One might think that distinction would bring with it welcoming leasing agents with cookies and milk at the front door of the leasing office and a big ole Texas “Aw, honey, just come on it.” Instead, we (Ray and I are Rachael’s co-signers) were met with something that we’ve yet to encounter when cosigning for any of our three daughters in Texas or Los Angeles: “corporate rules and regulations.”
Ray and I, admittedly, march to an independent drummer and this is no doubt where our problems began. We are small business owners who file taxes not usually in April, but more often in October, so we didn’t have the required tax form to submit. That was problem number one. Never mind that we submitted 3 months of bank statements instead, no, they needed our tax forms. So, under the threat that our youngest was going to miss out on this darling apartment close to her new job, we bit the bullet and prepared those necessary forms. But was that enough? Well, no.
The next big problem was that we own our property outright. Now, one could argue that is a better financial situation then paying monthly payments, but the young woman who was the leasing agent said instead, “Because we’re a leasing entity, we like to work with people who have monthly payments.” No amount of clarifying on my part seemed to touch a human on the other end of the phone line. Rachael would have to have her former landlord fill out one of the “corporate” forms and then we’ll go from there. Never mind that our credit score came back perfect and we, after all, were guaranteeing the monthly payment. No, we were clearly the deadbeat parents who owned their property outright, and therefore were not deemed responsible enough to vouch for our daughter.
The third obstacle was the criminal background check. Not that Rachael has even a parking ticket on her record, but somehow her Social Security number was not going through their system. “You’ll have to go down to the Social Security office and get an official letter stating that this number has been assigned to you,” the leasing agent said. This was the point when I thought my head might blow right off my neck. However, dutifully, Rachael and I went down the next morning to the SS office and waited TWO hours for a nice woman to print up a letter saying this was Rachael’s number. For some reason, that very afternoon, the leasing agent was able to run the number again and see that Rachael’s biggest crime was a desire to want this apartment in the first place…
The fourth problem came when Rachael’s former landlord wrote a letter to the apartment complex instead of filling out one of their official forms. “No, it’s against corporate rules to accept a letter,” the young leasing agent said over the phone. After twenty minutes of politely trying every argument I could conjure to convince this young woman of the absurdity of this requirement, I finally resigned myself to the fact that Rachael would never live in these apartments. Her landlord, notoriously bad at correspondence of any kind, had already surprised Rachael and me by responding at all. The idea that she might fill out a form after writing a letter attesting to Rachael’s responsible nature seemed utterly impossible. However, I wrote an impassioned letter to her explaining how ridiculous these apartment people were and she somehow found it within her disorganized heart to not only fill out the necessary form, but to also fax it to the leasing office.
So, after two weeks, four 60 mile round trips from Sherman to McKinney, numerous phone calls, four spirited emails to California, a dozen headaches and at least 40 Tums (these were for me), Rachael was finally approved for her apartment about two hours ago. The leasing agent suggested I drive over to McKinney from Sherman (30 miles) so she could get the money as soon as possible. After a pleasant but firm refusal on my part, she relented and said that Rachael could sign the lease online this evening and bring the money tomorrow. How very kind.
So, while McKinney is 30 miles from Dallas, has a darling downtown full of restaurants and boutiques, has a relative low cost of living, great schools, a low crime rate and lots of growing businesses, it also has some growing pains that make it a little less hospitable than I was expecting. I trust that over time all this “corporate” talk will die down and the leasing agents will get back to being decent and kind Texans, the ones that I had anticipated. Until then, I’m encouraging Rachael to keep bank statements, tax forms, leasing history forms, Social Security cards, and her criminal background check close at hand. She may, after all, decide to apply for the CIA. I suspect they will need less paperwork than her new apartment complex.
Congratulations, Rachael. I am truly happy you’re going to be somewhere that’s pretty, safe, and close to work. Please stay there for a long time, my dear. Another two weeks of this level of paperwork has the potential of sending your teetotaler mother straight across the Red River to an Oklahoma beer joint. I can guarantee that would not be pretty, and besides your new landlords will probably hear about it and cancel your lease. Corporate policy would surely dictate that necessary action.
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