A Message To My Detractor

Why? Why do useless people continue to exist?

The company that came to look at the attic of property Beta arrived on Monday afternoon at 3:30pm. They were supposed to show up on Sunday but rescheduled due to something coming up. It’s a family-owned repair business and the father and son come to me. The father introduces himself as the CEO of the repair company. Hint: Upon a first meeting, if someone introduces themselves by their "big" title instead of their name, it usually means he/she is an asshole. We went up to the attic and I told him I was thinking of finishing the attic and wanted a rough estimate of how much it’ll cost me. He asks me if I have a permit to start the work and I said no. He then said that they can’t do anything until I get a permit. That was it. I was gonna say, “Well do I need a permit just to get your professional opinion?!” but I wasn’t in the mood for an argument. But before we left the attic, he asked me if I was an investor and I said yes. Big mistake.

Property Beta's attic

We walked downstairs and started he began pitching his ideas to me. He’s looking for someone to invest in a project in which he builds a property from scratch and takes 60% of the profit. Then he tried to get me to buy his piece of shit property on the west side, calling it a “neighborhood on the rise”. If that wasn’t bad enough he started trashing landlords. He said that he used to be a landlord, but there’s no money in it because the houses in Smalltown are too old and the city is going after landlords who don’t take care of their properties. He looked at property Beta and called two-family properties like that a “money pit” because of the back porch that needs to be jacked. He talked about how businesses like his always talk to each other about landlords they like and don’t like, and how they treat those they don’t like. Every time I answered a question about something he’d say something like, “Yeah, I know. See, I could read your mind. Just like my boy here, I read minds.” He then asked me if I knew anyone that does big business in Smalltown and I mentioned Sha, and he said, “I’ve heard his name before but I’m not sure. A lot of Arabs come here and buy up property. Yeah, I know people like him.” He went on and on about the perils of my business while exalting the joys of his repair business. He gave me his business card and left.

A couple weeks ago, I had asked a lawn mowing guy if he could do estimates for my properties. At the time, I was dissatisfied with how Lamore was working. He said he wasn’t sure if he could do it because he had too many other properties to do. He asked me questions about my properties and I answered them, only because I thought the right answer would convince him to take the job. Instead, he went on a rant about how real estate investing isn’t what it used to be, and that he has 20 units and is just breaking even. He then told me that I have a “looooong way to go” if I ever want to do investing as a profession. One can clearly see where this is going, right?

What is with these people? No seriously, what is with them? Why is it that, whenever someone sees another trying to succeed, there’s always a negative attitude? I… you know, I tried really hard not to make this into a rant, but I gotta get the poison out. I don’t want these thoughts in my head when I have to go to that hillbilly shipping depot at 4pm today. So, in honor of the great Brie Lybrand, I'll rant with “A Message To My Detractor”:

Hello Detractor. People like you should die and they should use your corpse for renewable energy so that your existence could actually mean something. I hate you and everyone like you. You see people trying to make it and you shit on their chances. You’re one of those assholes that, if someone wins the lottery, you say “must be nice” instead of “good for them”. It doesn’t matter if it’s real estate or security or even McDonald’s, there’s an asshole in every profession. I practice good business. I take care of my properties. I move good tenants into the neighborhoods I invest in. I pay my taxes. That should be all I need to do. Instead, I have to deal with code enforcement and scheming-repair-man-slithering-cock-smugglers like you who see people like me and try to cut into my profits. You greedy fuck, can’t you be happy with the shit you got? And you, the asshole lawn mowing guy. How do you have 20 units and you’re only breaking even? You’re one of those fucks the bank used during that "$0 down payment scheme", where they approved every worthless asshole for a mortgage and brought the world to a standstill. Don’t preach to me about how bad the real estate world is, because the real estate world is bad because of numb-nuts like you. You can never own. You can mow lawns. You are to be used by people like me to do what we say-- a tool to be used like the tool you are. That’s your place. Know it and keep your worthless mouth shut.

Because of people like you, I have to tap into my paranoia and be cautious of everything I say. If I say something to you, you’ll say it to your handyman buddies and then I have to work harder to find someone to do a job. You can’t just do your job; you have to create drama and divisions to take sides on. Because of you animals I could barely get sleep last night. I was kept awake by my hatred of you from 2am. Next time you decide to piss me off, make sure you have a spare mother or daughter or sister hanging around so I can hate-fuck and get some sleep. The fact that you breath the same air as I makes me physically sick. Every breath you take is an affront to nature, and I hope nature gets its revenge. In a few years, I’ll have the money and the experience to learn how to avoid idiots like you. Until then, stay out of my way. I hope you fail financially as much as you fail as a person, and go back to the backwoods of Smalltown where your cancerous parasitic ass belongs.

Sincerely,

Your Physical, Mental, and soon-to-be Financial Better

Whew.

You know, I actually feel a lot better. And I did learn something from these encounters. From now on, I’m gonna keep my mouth shut. It’s either they do the job or they don’t—no need for me trying to convince them with personal information. The more they know, the more they can use against me. When they ask if it’s my property, say it’s for a friend or a family member. If any mongrel asks what I do for a living, I do security. That’s it. It’ll hurt my ego, but I’d rather them think I’m going nowhere than somewhere. Apparently, going somewhere in life is frowned upon. For shame.