I May Take My Landlord to Court
Yes, this is a real estate blog, but since many would-be homeowners (like me) are renting until prices become more manageable, some of us may have to brush up on landlord-tenant rights.
We recently moved out of our very nice Beverly Grove apartment, where we had lived since moving to L.A. last year, to a Miracle Mile duplex. Why did we move after living there just over a year? Well, we were paying $2,850 per month for a place with no yard and no air conditioning, and contrary to popular belief, sometimes you DO need air conditioning in L.A. (We’re newcomers.) Our new place has a yard and two window units for $2,400 per month.
We were ideal tenants: We paid our rent on time, and, as lifetime homeowners, we treated the place like our own. We thought we had a good relationship with our landlord, who seemed like a decent person, if a bit emotional.
When we gave our 30 days’ notice at the end of May (by email, with a note saying how much we’d enjoyed living there), the landlord asked whether she could show the place to prospective tenants. We wanted to be helpful, so we said we would. We knew the market was tough, so we accommodated her at least a half-dozen times when she wanted to show the place on short notice (I’m told you’re supposed to give 24 hours’ notice). But the place didn’t get rented. (In fact, it still wasn’t rented as of a few days ago; she first advertised it for $100 more than she was getting from us, which was WAY too high, and she’s been too slow to lower the price.)
We moved out June 25; I told her she could show the unit without calling me after that. On June 28, while I was cleaning the place, she stopped in with a prospective tenant. We were out two days early.
After we left, things got a little strange. First, there were the emails about the kitchen cabinet stain. Where had I put it? Um, what cabinet stain? No idea what you’re talking about here. The cabinet guy left it with me, she said. What cabinet guy? I said.
Then, a week later, I got an email — basically, one somewhat incoherent sentence, all capital letters (the email equivalent of yelling) that accused me of stealing the under-the cabinet slide-out kitchen trashcan. I told her that the trashcan was in the storage unit when I left, which it was. At this point, I was getting a bad feeling.
California landlords have 21 days to return your security deposit to you. Ours arrived on Day 22 — and with $600 missing — along with a form listing the deductions.
Cleaning: $200
Painting touch-ups: $100
Water spots on cabinets: $100
Scratches and discoloration of wood floors at entry: $200
This development necessitated a reading of the California civil code pertaining to security deposits. It was pretty clear that landlords aren’t allowed to charge tenants for wear and tear. Painting is unquestionably wear and tear. Since we didn’t do anything out of the ordinary while we were there, such as dragging a rake over the entryway or spraying the kitchen with water, those have to fall under wear and tear as well. And I cleaned the place on June 28, as she herself witnessed.
Furthermore, if I’m reading the code right, she’s supposed to provide detailed receipts that prove that the repairs were made and describe what needed to be done. That didn’t happen.
I sent her a certified letter telling her to fork over my money by August 1. If that doesn’t happen — and I doubt it will — I’ll file in small claims court to try to get it.
Since this happened, I learned that there are all sorts of things I should have done to protect myself that I didn’t do — like move-in and move-out checklists — because I thought this woman wasn’t the type to screw us over.
Either way, the $600 isn’t going to kill us. And maybe some people would just shrug and say, “Oh, well.” But I’m not going to do that. It’s not right. And it’s not OK.
So if any of you have any experience with this, or any insights or suggestions you can offer, I’d appreciate it.
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