As a property manager, my primary goal is to "rent, retain, collect" while leading a team of dedicated individuals to success in that endeavor. It's not quite that simple though, and to say the goal is multi-faceted is an understatement. Fortunately, I am naturally competitive, goal-oriented, and creative, which all lends itself to success in this area of operations. This aspect of my career is pure enjoyment on a daily basis, but there are others I find more difficult.

In the ideal world, only the cheap and easy things ever need repair. In a perfect world, nothing ever breaks at your property.  But both of those places are reserved for heaven and things happen without warning every day. They also always seem to happen to your most emotional resident at the most inopportune time. 

In my utopia, a resident is never bothered when their neighbor overflows their toilet and it pours through their ceiling as they lay in bed! And of course, nobody ever asks for compensation. If you have ever worked on site, you know this scenario could never exist and therein lays the dilemma. I feel for this person who just got the aquatic version of reveille. They are pleading their case to me, and the various merits of their argument which call for "special consideration", which translated bluntly means rent discounts. They do this with a stream of T.P. still stuck to the bottom of their shoe as they sit across the desk. I can’t tell if they know it's there, or they are using it for effect to make me feel even more sympathetic. So, I fervently agree it's not fair what happened to them, I also find myself  explaining that it's not the landlord's "fault" and I am here for them to fix the situation as fast as possible. Throughout the entire dialogue, the elephant in the room is that we both know that the truly responsible party for this disaster is a single mother who struggles every day to keep the roof over her family's head and hopefully, some food on the table every night. She is just as sweet as she can be and she certainly did not know that little Robby put his toy keys down the toilet in the first place. She is just as sorry as her neighbor is upset.

It is obvious from the beginning that keeping them both happy is going to require an expense to the management company. My t.p. decorated resident wants $500 and will walk out of the office to go cash his check as he recommends his apartment community to everyone in the lobby of the bank! Otherwise, he has already given his notice to move out.  My race car driver in training's mom will absolutely snap if I even mention the cost of repairs and the possibility of sharing the cost with management, and while she won't give notice, she will likely move out in the middle of the night because she knows she'll never be able to pay. I feel like someone's going to lose no matter what, and my job is to make sure it's not the owner's that lose the most.

So, the question is... where do you draw the line? How far do you go (financially speaking) to maintain resident satisfaction? How do you measure the cost/benefit in this situation, and others like it? It can sometimes feel as though you’re being held hostage by the emotions and limitations of each of the resident(s), but have promised the owners (who ultimately decide if you stayed employed at this time or not) that you will represent them, and their financial best interest, at all times.

FINALLY, what is the mean in which you measure each of these situations fairly and consistently?