4/02/2007
The Bridget Treatment
"Oh, man," said Adam on Saturday night, when I told him I'd just signed the lease for my house next year. "Did you get the Bridget treatment?"
The real estate in the USC area is completely monopolized by a select few companies, so it wasn't too surprising that he and I were renting from the same one. But it was amusing to learn that the flighty but deceptively hardcore Bridget is a legendary figure 'round these parts, mostly because of her method of illustrating certain terms of the lease with vivid fictional cautionary fables. Here are a few that came up during Saturday's "lease-signing party," as Bridget called it:
1. The Tale of Mary and her Boyfriend
"We're totally cool with subletting. Just let us know first, pay us the $50 subletting fee, and have some form of written agreement with your subletter. Now, I know what you're thinking: 'I don't need to have some form of written agreement with my subletter! She's my best friend! I trust her!' But you need to draw up a written agreement, no matter what.
"Let's suppose that in spring 2008, Renae" [she points to one of my future housemates] "decides to go abroad. To Italy. So she gets her friend Mary" [Mary does not exist] "to cover her rent for that time. It's a great arrangement. Mary's your best friend, she's a model tenant, she always pays her rent on time, everyone's happy.
"But Mary has this boyfriend. Her boyfriend sleeps over in her room a lot. And this boyfriend is kind of a jerk. One day, Mary and her boyfriend come home from a party, late at night. They're both drunk. They get into a fight. At one point, Mary's boyfriend gets so angry, he punches a hole in the wall.
"He's scared. She's scared. They both freak out. The boyfriend decides to move a chest of drawers across the room, to cover the hole. It works, and they both forget about it.
"Renae comes back at the end of the semester. She had a great time in Italy, the room looks perfect, it looks like Mary took great care of it. So everything's cool, right?
"But then the lease ends, and we come over and inspect the house and say, 'There's a hole in the wall.' Renae says, 'No there's not!' We say, 'Yes there is. It's in your room.' Renae says, 'I didn't put it there!' We say, 'It wasn't there before, so you have to pay for it.' But Renae doesn't think that's fair. The hole is Mary's fault. If only Mary had signed some kind of contract holding her responsible for all damages incurred during her residence!
"And that's why you always have a written agreement with your subletter."
2. The Tale of Francisca's Nervous Breakdown
"Now, I know what you're all thinking: 'I don't need to do all this paperwork! My housemates are cool people! Sure, maybe they have their little quirks, like how Francisca'" [she points to me] "'wakes up at five in the morning to go running. But they'd never leave me high and dry with the rent!'
"But halfway through the year, Francisca decides she just can't take it anymore. All the pressure, the work, student life -- it's broken her. She has a major nervous breakdown, a real manic-depressive episode -- turns out she's manic-depressive -- and she just can't stay at USC or she'll die. So she decides to go home, back to -- where are you from, Francisca?"
"New York," I say, "and, um, you can call me Fr--"
"--she flies home to New York, without paying her rent. You guys are like, 'Shit! Now what are we going to do?' Luckily, she signed this contract, so if she doesn't pay her rent, you can take her to court!"
3. A Tale of Two Mommies
In a hushed voice, Bridget said, "This is the most important part of the whole contract. I want you guys to read it to yourselves, and then I'll read it back to you, and then I'll explain it."
Dutifully, we all scanned the sentence. Then Bridget read it aloud. "What it means," she said, "is -- oh, and by the way, this is NOT a true story...
"Let's say Mommy and Daddy have a house together. Monthly rent is two thousand dollars. They both have jobs outside the home: Mommy brings home a grand, Daddy brings home a grand. It all works out perfect.
"But one day, Mommy decides she's a lesbian. She's like, 'Hey, Daddy, sorry to do this, but this is my path right now.' She quits her job, and she and her girlfriend move to Catalina Island -- leaving Daddy all alone with his one grand a month.
"So the first of the month rolls around, and the landlord comes to the rent. Daddy says, 'Hey, here's a thousand dollars for this month.'
"The landlord says, 'That's cool, that's cool, but, you know, the rent is two thousand dollars a month.'
"Daddy goes, 'Oh, I know, but Mommy became a lesbian and ran away with her girlfriend to Catalina Island, so this thousand dollars is all I can come up with right now.'
"The landlord says, 'Oh, wow, that's really terrible, I'm so sorry, I can't even imagine how you feel right now...but there's only one problem. And that problem is: I DON'T CARE. I DON'T CARE, BECAUSE YOU SIGNED THE CONTRACT SAYING YOU WOULD GET THE RENT TO ME NO MATTER WHAT!'
"And that's what this sentence means."
4. The Tale of the Pony in the Ghetto
I couldn't help it: I was glancing around, daydreaming, and when I noticed a white Hummer limo drive down Hoover Street filled with shrieking people, followed by a lovely young Hispanic bride and groom sitting in a flower-strewn white carriage pulled by a tragic-looking white horse -- well, I couldn't resist squealing, "PONY!"
To my surprise, Bridget whirled around to look, even more excited than I was. "Oh my god, a pony!" she shrieked. "A pony in the ghetto! A ghetto wedding!" She leaped up and shouted after the newlyweds, probably loud enough to be heard:
"HEY, PONY, DON'T GET SHOT!"
"Oh, man," said Adam on Saturday night, when I told him I'd just signed the lease for my house next year. "Did you get the Bridget treatment?"
The real estate in the USC area is completely monopolized by a select few companies, so it wasn't too surprising that he and I were renting from the same one. But it was amusing to learn that the flighty but deceptively hardcore Bridget is a legendary figure 'round these parts, mostly because of her method of illustrating certain terms of the lease with vivid fictional cautionary fables. Here are a few that came up during Saturday's "lease-signing party," as Bridget called it:
1. The Tale of Mary and her Boyfriend
"We're totally cool with subletting. Just let us know first, pay us the $50 subletting fee, and have some form of written agreement with your subletter. Now, I know what you're thinking: 'I don't need to have some form of written agreement with my subletter! She's my best friend! I trust her!' But you need to draw up a written agreement, no matter what.
"Let's suppose that in spring 2008, Renae" [she points to one of my future housemates] "decides to go abroad. To Italy. So she gets her friend Mary" [Mary does not exist] "to cover her rent for that time. It's a great arrangement. Mary's your best friend, she's a model tenant, she always pays her rent on time, everyone's happy.
"But Mary has this boyfriend. Her boyfriend sleeps over in her room a lot. And this boyfriend is kind of a jerk. One day, Mary and her boyfriend come home from a party, late at night. They're both drunk. They get into a fight. At one point, Mary's boyfriend gets so angry, he punches a hole in the wall.
"He's scared. She's scared. They both freak out. The boyfriend decides to move a chest of drawers across the room, to cover the hole. It works, and they both forget about it.
"Renae comes back at the end of the semester. She had a great time in Italy, the room looks perfect, it looks like Mary took great care of it. So everything's cool, right?
"But then the lease ends, and we come over and inspect the house and say, 'There's a hole in the wall.' Renae says, 'No there's not!' We say, 'Yes there is. It's in your room.' Renae says, 'I didn't put it there!' We say, 'It wasn't there before, so you have to pay for it.' But Renae doesn't think that's fair. The hole is Mary's fault. If only Mary had signed some kind of contract holding her responsible for all damages incurred during her residence!
"And that's why you always have a written agreement with your subletter."
2. The Tale of Francisca's Nervous Breakdown
"Now, I know what you're all thinking: 'I don't need to do all this paperwork! My housemates are cool people! Sure, maybe they have their little quirks, like how Francisca'" [she points to me] "'wakes up at five in the morning to go running. But they'd never leave me high and dry with the rent!'
"But halfway through the year, Francisca decides she just can't take it anymore. All the pressure, the work, student life -- it's broken her. She has a major nervous breakdown, a real manic-depressive episode -- turns out she's manic-depressive -- and she just can't stay at USC or she'll die. So she decides to go home, back to -- where are you from, Francisca?"
"New York," I say, "and, um, you can call me Fr--"
"--she flies home to New York, without paying her rent. You guys are like, 'Shit! Now what are we going to do?' Luckily, she signed this contract, so if she doesn't pay her rent, you can take her to court!"
3. A Tale of Two Mommies
In a hushed voice, Bridget said, "This is the most important part of the whole contract. I want you guys to read it to yourselves, and then I'll read it back to you, and then I'll explain it."
Dutifully, we all scanned the sentence. Then Bridget read it aloud. "What it means," she said, "is -- oh, and by the way, this is NOT a true story...
"Let's say Mommy and Daddy have a house together. Monthly rent is two thousand dollars. They both have jobs outside the home: Mommy brings home a grand, Daddy brings home a grand. It all works out perfect.
"But one day, Mommy decides she's a lesbian. She's like, 'Hey, Daddy, sorry to do this, but this is my path right now.' She quits her job, and she and her girlfriend move to Catalina Island -- leaving Daddy all alone with his one grand a month.
"So the first of the month rolls around, and the landlord comes to the rent. Daddy says, 'Hey, here's a thousand dollars for this month.'
"The landlord says, 'That's cool, that's cool, but, you know, the rent is two thousand dollars a month.'
"Daddy goes, 'Oh, I know, but Mommy became a lesbian and ran away with her girlfriend to Catalina Island, so this thousand dollars is all I can come up with right now.'
"The landlord says, 'Oh, wow, that's really terrible, I'm so sorry, I can't even imagine how you feel right now...but there's only one problem. And that problem is: I DON'T CARE. I DON'T CARE, BECAUSE YOU SIGNED THE CONTRACT SAYING YOU WOULD GET THE RENT TO ME NO MATTER WHAT!'
"And that's what this sentence means."
4. The Tale of the Pony in the Ghetto
I couldn't help it: I was glancing around, daydreaming, and when I noticed a white Hummer limo drive down Hoover Street filled with shrieking people, followed by a lovely young Hispanic bride and groom sitting in a flower-strewn white carriage pulled by a tragic-looking white horse -- well, I couldn't resist squealing, "PONY!"
To my surprise, Bridget whirled around to look, even more excited than I was. "Oh my god, a pony!" she shrieked. "A pony in the ghetto! A ghetto wedding!" She leaped up and shouted after the newlyweds, probably loud enough to be heard:
"HEY, PONY, DON'T GET SHOT!"

