Forgive me if this sounds stupid, but I've never had to do this before.
I guess I am more concerned about keeping an ax-murdering no rent paying deadbeat slob, from moving into my house. How do you go about screening out people like that? How would I go about doing a background check? Anyone had luck with sites like roommates.com or???
Thanks!
For the last two places I have lived (including the house I'm in now), I found my roommates through Craigslist. It has worked well enough.
To make things easier, see where you agree and disagree on the following matters:
If you establish all of this early on, your experience will be a lot better.
It helps if they are afraid of you. Keep the pimp hand strong.
The best roommate is no roommate. And I have had a lot of them. The 2nd best was the cocktail waitress chick who worked at a strip club in the Dells on weekends and always paid rent in singles, on time, and did my laundry.
Best roommate is one of the opposite sex, with benefits, IMO.
1988RedT2 wrote: Best roommate is one of the opposite sex, with benefits, IMO.
I had a female roommate (arranged by my fiance'). no bennies. :( But, easy to live with and she cooked as well
I'll pass on roomies as well unless it's in a 'shacking up' situation. I had a girl as my last roommate before I moved in with my (now ex) wife. That was a bad enough experience that I do not want to repeat it; I didn't like getting up in the AM to find a strange guy sleeping on my (well, our) couch.
I found a roommate on roommates.com and it worked out well but YMMV. In my case he was moving to Clearwater to enter the police academy, had a well behaved dog and drove a 1st gen Integra. All positive points in my book. I still checked his references and they were all good. It worked out well for the 3 or so years before I met my future wife.
Check references, look at his resume, call his employers, etc. and set solid rules for cleanliness, acceptable behavior and what area of the house is within their scope of use. Good luck
My G/F rents out a room in her house. There is a major collage in town so she puts an ad on the collage website. Only rents to females. Has a lease that explains privlages and responsabilities. Lease also says they give each other 30 days notice if it doesn't work out. She has had very good luck with tenents (only one phyco b!$@# which only lasted a month).
For some reason, finding a roommate on Craigslist scares the crap out of me - and I am not sure why.
I wouldn't do the roommate thing if I didn't have to. But I have the space and trying to get some bills paid for to potentially return to college full-time.
I guess reading the reference points, calling previous landlords too?
What about deposits?
I had a squalid punk/musician/motorcycle racer shared house for years, ending when Mrs. motomoron and I bought house project #1. There were nutcase/oddball/dirtbags too numerous to recall, but I'll never forget Wayne.
Wayne was a hairdresser who rode a Honda Magna lowered far enough he had to run rigid struts rather than shocks on the rear. To keep it from falling over in the garage (on it's not-shortened side stand) I provided a piece of 2x12 to roll the front wheel up on.
Wayne initially looked like Lorenzo Lamas in "Renegade" , later adopting dreads and a a fake Rasta Patois that was equal parts pathetic and hilarious.
He was late with the rent every month, and it arrived invariably at midnight on the 5th in the form of a check from a different woman, every month.
The Wayne Story:
One month he's really late w/ the rent - it's like the 8th - on the 10th we'd incur a 10% penalty. I arrived home on a Monday morning (motorcycle shop guy schedule) and lo and behold, there's Wayne's bike. I knock on his door, and predictably he's busy getting busy. I make an impassioned plea for the rent and he says: "Dude, like don't sweat bank so harsh maaan, I have it today!"
I'm in the garage all day - later I go check, and he's left by coasting the bike far enough away that I couldn't hear him leave. I'm a little furious. I look in his usual haunts - no Wayne. The next day I decide to make one more try. I go to the hair salon - bingo! the Magna is out front.
I go In - I'm wearing black Vanson leathers head to foot w/ motocross boots, armored gloves, and a black helmet with a black shield. I look just like the assassin dudes on black enduro bikes in the action movies. I stride purposefully to Wayne's station and ask for the rent. He gives me his best deer in the headlight look, so I barge him against the counter, and dig in his pocket (eww) to produce his ginormous wad of cash.
I peel of the $440 the master bedroom rented for and tossed the rest on the floor. I said "Wayne, you said yesterday you'd "have the rent today" then you snuck out. You're done. Have you'r E36 M3 out of the house by midnight the 15th"
To which he said "Today?? Dooood! I thoought you meant "TWO DAYS!".
I don't miss the room mates.
I had a squalid punk/musician/motorcycle racer shared house for years, ending when Mrs. motomoron and I bought house project #1. There were nutcase/oddball/dirtbags too numerous to recall, but I'll never forget Wayne.
Wayne was a hairdresser who rode a Honda Magna lowered far enough he had to run rigid struts rather than shocks on the rear. To keep it from falling over in the garage (on it's not-shortened side stand) I provided a piece of 2x12 to roll the front wheel up on.
Wayne initially looked like Lorenzo Lamas in "Renegade" , later adopting dreads and a a fake Rasta Patois that was equal parts pathetic and hilarious.
He was late with the rent every month, and it arrived invariably at midnight on the 5th in the form of a check from a different woman, every month.
The Wayne Story:
One month he's really late w/ the rent - it's like the 8th - on the 10th we'd incur a 10% penalty. I arrived home on a Monday morning (motorcycle shop guy schedule) and lo and behold, there's Wayne's bike. I knock on his door, and predictably he's busy getting busy. I make an impassioned plea for the rent and he says: "Dude, like don't sweat bank so harsh maaan, I have it today!"
I'm in the garage all day - later I go check, and he's left by coasting the bike far enough away that I couldn't hear him leave. I'm a little furious. I look in his usual haunts - no Wayne. The next day I decide to make one more try. I go to the hair salon - bingo! the Magna is out front.
I go In - I'm wearing black Vanson leathers head to foot w/ motocross boots, armored gloves, and a black helmet with a black shield. I look just like the assassin dudes on black enduro bikes in the action movies. I stride purposefully to Wayne's station and ask for the rent. He gives me his best deer in the headlight look, so I barge him against the counter, and dig in his pocket (eww) to produce his ginormous wad of cash.
I peel of the $440 the master bedroom rented for and tossed the rest on the floor. I said "Wayne, you said yesterday you'd "have the rent today" then you snuck out. You're done. Have you'r E36 M3 out of the house by midnight the 15th"
To which he said "Today?? Dooood! I thoought you meant "TWO DAYS!".
I don't miss the room mates.
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