Caught in the middle

The little villa I've been living in for the past 2-1/2 years was sold to Wells Fargo in a foreclosure auction on May 15th. I knew this day was coming; my landlords were upfront about it. It's one of the reasons my rent was under-market. When I first moved in, I thought I would be kicked out in 6 months, maybe a year. But as time went by, I became complacent. And now the day of reckoning is here. It's amazing to me how a tenant caught in a foreclosure not of his/her making becomes the bad guy. Wells Fargo wants me out -- yesterday. I received a letter from the third party servicer telling me to call one of their representatives (the guy in Utah's title is REO Eviction Specialist -- sure, why don't I just give a quick call to my executioner. . . .) So I called the rep in St. Petersburg who is a broker for a realty company. He offered me a nice deal to move out by mid-July. If there weren't extenuating circumstances (e.g., I was working two part-time jobs to  create one full-time salary, but I lost my second part-time job a week after Wells Fargo bought my villa -- the company furloughed all the part-timers. How lovely.), I would have taken the deal, even though I have four cats and no one wants to rent to someone with four cats. They're just little domestic cats -- not Florida panthers. No one is going to be eaten for lunch by my cats, but four cats is a difficulty when it comes to renting. I once talked to a landlord who preferred to rent to someone with two Rottweilers rather than me with four cats. (This was when I first moved to Tampa many moons ago, and here I am again in the same boat.)

After I talked to the St. Pete rep and I told him I might take the deal, another rep from the same company called and offered me $2000 to leave in 10 days. That ain't happening, so we're still working on that. Meanwhile, I came home from work the next day to find a letter taped to my door from Brock and Scott, a law firm in Ft. Lauderdale, telling me they want me to send them a copy of my lease, my telephone number, and the last 6 months worth of rent receipts in 14 days, or they will start eviction proceedings and lock me out of the villa "as soon as the law allows." The lawyer who signed the letter didn't provide a telephone number or email address (which I later found online), but at the time, I panicked and called the only number on the letter. A young woman tried to help me, but she eventually clicked me away to someone who she thought could further assist me, but it was after-hours so I left a message with a woman, who, it turns out, is the head of the eviction department in Brock and Scott. She returned my call, which surprised me. I emailed her a copy of my lease, and now I wait to see what will happen next.

In 2009, President Obama signed a law called "Protecting Tenants at Foreclosure Act." It was set to expire in December 2012, but it was renewed until December 2014. I think it should be a forever law. It helps people like me caught in the foreclosure hurricane because it gives tenants 90 days to find a new home, even if they don't have a lease or if they have a month-to-month lease. If they have a bona fide annual lease, they have the right to stay until the lease expires (except in the case where someone buys to home and wants to move in; the tenant then has 90 days to vacate, lease or not.)  The operative words here are bona fide, which means that the rent is fair market value. In my case, it is now up to the realty rep to decide if my rent is fair market value or not. 

Since this is a totally new experience for me, I trust no one. I thought I had 90 days from when Wells Fargo received the title, but now I'm not sure. Wells Fargo and all of its people want me out so this villa can be sold. I have begun packing, and I plan on having all non-essentials packed by next weekend, just in case I come home from work one day soon to find a get-out-of-the-house-in-three-days-or-else notice taped to my door. I have found some hotels in the area that are pet friendly. Whether they will let me bring in four cats is another story. I'll tell you this -- my next vehicle is going to be a mini-van so I have someplace to live if I am ever again threatened with homelessness.