Diffusing A Tenancy Cleaning Bomb
Dealing with angry landlords comes with the territory when you sign up for the tenancy cleaning business. Tensions run high, tongues get loose, and you may be caught in no man’s land between overstressed tenants moving to their new homes and raging owners who look to list their property on the market as quickly as possible.
It was certainly the case on a slow Thursday morning while I was sipping my first coffee for the day. I had just treated myself to a royal breakfast at Vardo (you must be living under a rock if you haven’t tried their breakfast plates!) when my phone started buzzing. “It’s half past nine A.M., and this can’t be good”, I thought. Seeing my manager’s name pop up on the screen confirmed my premonition. “Hey, M, sorry to bother you so early, but I’ve got a tough case. We just received a quote request for tenancy cleaning – a 2-bedroom, 1-bathroom apartment on Oakley Street. The problem is that the tenant is way past the agreed deadline, and the landlord is livid. I have already spoken to him, and he sounded like a brawler looking for blood.”
I knew why Linda, my manager, was calling me. I have built the reputation of a peacemaker – I can talk patiently even with the most aggressive and angry customers and reason with them. My colleagues jokingly call me the UN ambassador for cleaning – which I take as a compliment. The fact that I am 5 ft 2, wear my hair in a ponytail, and look like I’ve just graduated college instead of my actual age (I have a teenage daughter), also helps me disarm my raging customers.
I just wished it hadn’t been this particular Thursday! I had bought tickets for a hot play that everybody was talking about at the Royal Court Theatre. It was supposed to be a family affair – me, my husband, and our very opinionated daughter – and the last thing I wanted was to ruin my mood with a wacky tenancy cleaning job. But someone had to do it, so I answered duty’s call.
After stopping at the office to pick up my cleaning gear and wait for a teammate to join me, we headed for Oakley Street. I knew the area well – expensive, perfectly-kept terraced houses, with the street heading towards the Albert Bridge. We had actually performed several move-out cleaning jobs nearby, working for the estate agency running Pier House. As it turned out, our appointment was just a couple of houses away.
The moment the landlord opened the front door, I knew we were in trouble. He was an elegantly dressed, middle-aged gentleman – but his clenched jaw and steely look told me he was making no effort to control his anger. “Ah, you have finally arrived”, he spitted out sarcastically and showed us in. “You can tell the idiot who booked you that he is not getting his security deposit back after being two weeks late and leaving the place in this condition!”
I could immediately see the reason for his anger. The living room carpet was in pitiful condition – there was a thick layer of dust around the table and chairs; dust was also covering the bookshelves and every piece of furniture. There were cobwebs in the corners of the hallway and the living room, and the windows were covered in water streaks and dust. Even if the tenant had vacated the place three weeks ago, it could not have accumulated so much dust – meaning he hadn’t kept the apartment in order well before that.
“I see why you are angry. I cannot speak to our customer’s housekeeping habits or lack thereof. However, I can guarantee that we can address all problems in due time. I see no critical issues requiring extra attention – give us three, at most four hours, and we will bring your apartment back to the condition you want. I assume you’ve clarified to your former tenant that he should not expect his security deposit?”
“That’s none of your business!” snapped our gracious host.
“I am afraid I have to disagree, sir. You see, in most cases, tenants only book the cleaning procedure to get their deposits back. Otherwise, they will have no incentive to do it. So if our customer is unaware of that, he may refuse to pay us – which will put him in a different sort of trouble.”
My calm yet professional demeanour was finally making some inroads. I could see that the landlord quickly grasped my logic, which was hardly refutable. “I made it perfectly clear that being two weeks late already forfeited his deposit. But the contract stipulates that if the apartment is in significantly worse condition than when he moved in, I have a cause for legal action.”
I nodded and said I would need to confirm that with my manager. In the meantime, I gave the green light to my colleague to start working. Fifteen minutes and two phone calls later, Linda confirmed we had already received the payment. I had seen it before – tenants who intentionally forfeit the security deposit, pushing their luck that property owners would do nothing about it. Graham – the landlord – was certainly not the “do-nothing” type.
I rolled up my sleeves and joined my colleague. It was a tough case, but we had seen much worse. The former tenant certainly hadn’t used the kitchen much because there was no residual smell or grease on the stove. The bathroom was problematic – fortunately, the tiny spots around the drain were not mould and came off quickly with a bit of scrubbing. The biggest challenge remained the living room carpet. We had to vacuum-clean it twice and even used a manual steam washer (we usually employ it for dusting large furniture) for the worst smothered areas.
Graham’s attitude improved proportionately to our progress. I think he had initially taken us for impostors sent by the tenant. When it became evident that we knew what we were doing, his mood lightened up. As expected, the procedure took us precisely three hours and twenty-five minutes. By the end of it, the apartment was looking fresh and neat.
“I want to apologise for my initial behaviour”, said Graham graciously as we were packing our cleaning equipment, “I was furious when I arrived and saw what the apartment looked like.”
“Trust me, I’ve seen worse”, I responded, not specifying if I meant the apartment condition or his attitude. We both laughed at the double meaning and shook hands. Well, the job hadn’t ruined my mood – I could enjoy my theatre night!