You have not lived until you’ve had rental property. What people say they’ll do and what people actually do are two different things, and over time, I’ve been mesmerized by antics played out.

A couple of years ago, a gentleman called to ask if we had any rentals and since we did, I gave a monologue of sorts: Did he have a job, did he have pets, was he married and were there children? – all in that order. These are not random chitchat questions. There’s a reason I ask, and my children will tell you, if I get a vague answer, there’ll be more questions.

This guy told me he did have a job, was married and there were children. He left out the pet part and since I’m not completely oblivious, I caught the omission. When I repeated myself, and asked again about pets, he casually replied, “Not really.”

Not really? Since I didn’t know what that meant, I point blank asked him, “Do you have pets?”

He said, “Well, not technically because we only have two dogs, two cats and several cages of snakes.” What pray tell, did he think pets were? “No ma’am, there’s no three-toed sloth or a wombat, so yeah, we’re pretty much pet free.”

I mumbled, perhaps incoherently, “Snakes?”

He said he had snakes but they were all in containers and cages. I told him we weren’t a compatible couple and the snakes were a deterrent to us enjoying a lasting relationship. After hanging up, I’m sure the guy scratched his head and thought, “I think that woman wanted to date me.”

There are folks who are not above board in honesty about what they may bring into the house. Take for instance the guy who disassembled his motorcycle in the middle of the living room. I let him live because he put a big, blue tarp under the greasy tools and parts. There is now a paragraph in the contract that delves right into this issue: “Tenant will not have wheeled vehicles inside premises, whether motorized or not, and includes but is not limited to motorcycles and bicycles.” Who knew this had to be in a legal document? I can be taught.

Once, years ago, when our kids were still home, we went to a recently vacated rental. Upon entering first, the youngest turned right around and came back out stating, “Mama, bad people lived here and they did not clean their room.”

My crew – consisting of our children who were not government-approved, work-age yet – entered this massive disaster of a rental property, lined up, and turned to stare at me as if they’d been practicing this maneuver. Fearing mutiny, and trying also to convince their mother, I said, “Look, we learn some things from prosperity, but we learn more from adversity.” I received cold glares and had to think on my feet. “Everyone will be paid double today.” Money talks.

Before we could start cleaning, we hauled out 13 black garbage bags full of trash – empty jars and containers, plastic bags, parcels, boxes, bins, empty cans, beer bottles, half-eaten food, strewn clothing, and my favorite, cigarette butts. The kids were troopers. They gloved up and toiled like captive workhorses. But let it be known, after finishing, they stood in line to be paid, and they have very good memories. There are no slaves to be had under our roof and Gar’s wife has reminded him of this many, many times.

There was the time a newly painted wall was found to be decimated to oblivion. The renter had thrown darts until the sheetrock was a powdered mass. The log walls were pristine due to them bending darts' pointy heads. We wanted to break the neck attached to a tenant’s pointy head. Probably for the best, he was long gone. Our children would have been orphans and we’d have been vacationing in a damp, dark cell. Actually, the kids would avidly point out, it would’ve been a vacation for them without the one taskmaster.

The Bible tells me I did not come from a monkey, but after years of being a landlord, I’m not convinced this is true for everyone. I do know it’s easier to forgive an enemy after getting even, like keeping the cleaning deposit from a renter’s mess.

A friend once mentioned that I should have more faith in people and I replied, “I’ll have faith in mankind when they stop hauling money in armored cars.”

Trena Eiden is a lifelong resident of Sublette County. Contact her at trenaid@hotmail.com.