Fist fights breaking out in the early morning, electricity turned off due to lack of payment, weeks without hot water from basic negligence, countless strangers throughout the summer sleeping in the common areas of the house, belligerently drunken squatters, but none of this is a concern to the landlord who chooses to “party in pink” as she hops from Uber to Uber.
This is my Hamptons House From Hell. I’m unveiling my real life horror story in hopes that my experience will be a warning for those after me.
It was April and I was frantic for a place to live, counting down to when the Hamptons housing market skyrockets the rent for summer season. I was referred to a property in East Hampton by a Facebook acquaintance; four bedroom, wrap around deck, pool, sauna, nice kitchen and remaining areas, all just within my budget. A dream too good to be true.
My original intention was for a year-round rental. Yet, when I met with the acting landlord, “party in pink”, with my check for first months rent and security deposit, a standard transaction, I had a gut instinct to turn away. I should have listened to it.
My first mistake as a tenant was: I didn’t ask the landlord for references of those who stayed on property before me.
Had I done so I could have avoided what was to come. But, I was tired of looking for a place to live.
I drafted up a lease for five months, a safety precaution in the event my gut instinct was right. This lease agreement stated full payment for the duration of stay, including security deposit, a total equating to nearly $10,000 upfront.
My second mistake as a tenant was: I didn’t ask to see the account where my rent and security deposit went.
Had I done so I could have avoided what was to come. But I wasn’t knowledgeable on my basic tenant rights.
I moved in a week prior to Memorial Day Weekend. The drama began my second morning. I awoke, refreshed, at 7 AM to make some coffee, a standard routine, to the greeting of three men exiting the guest bedroom. Within minutes a fist fight broke out, blood splattering the floor, and cop cars arrived. This was my new normal.
My landlord, “party in pink”, lived in the same house. She was in the nightlife circuit yet didn’t have a car and relied on Ubers to drive her around. Oftentimes, I’d be requested to drive her around from gig to gig or pick up things she left behind. Most times, I denied such requests. Her job required late nights while mine required focus during the day.
My other housemate, a lead singer and guitarist, pretty much stayed to himself but brought back some really good steak from the family market from time to time (he, for the record of these blog posts, remained a friend and comfort throughout the experience and hereinafter).
Eventually, when the electricity was turned off from lack of payment, I found out “party in pink” was also without a credit card. She asked to place the back payment on my card, to which I declined. Later on, we had no hot water for periods at a time, one included a span of three and a half weeks, clear forms of landlord negligence. This should have been a red flag.
As the weeks rolled on there were parties into the dawning hours; a rotation of crashers in common areas making it uncomfortable to even walk around most mornings; mantra music from the living room on blast as I slept, until the sun came up; cash being stolen; one night I even fled the house in fear of my safety. “Party in pink” also enjoyed walking around naked, or without underwear, throughout the house . The issues rolled on, all amounting in my lack of comfort and desire to stay in the home.
Then, one night “party in pink” entered my bedroom at 3 AM while I had a guest over. This later followed with her entering my closed room to obtain “bathroom necessities” while I wasn’t home. There was a clear lack of respect for my personal space, that I was paying for, and tip offs of what was to come.
My third mistake as a tenant was: I didn’t get a lock-in-key upon moving in to protect my belongings.
Had I done so, I could have avoided what was to come. But I didn’t think things would escalate further.
Labor Day Weekend approached and I couldn’t wait to escape the gripping madness I’d been enduring all summer long, not a common thought process for someone staying in a seemingly picturesque Hamptons home in East Hampton. But, I’d seen enough. I left with a new lock-in-key in place, as agreed to in a conversation prior, and informed “party in pink” no one was to stay in my room while I was gone.
I awoke the very next day, out of town, with a photo text from another person who occasionally stayed on property,
“Just an FYI, “Party in pink” is kicking your door so we can stay. Pls call me in the morning.”
My door was kicked in, the hinge completely ripped off, doorframe damaged, and all of my belongings inside. I was livid. I texting “party in pink” stating I didn’t want anyone in my room and would return if my wishes were not respected. I knew my rights as a tenant, this much at least, and she was in clear violation.
The same person sent me a photo text two days later, while I was still out of town,
“Give me a call there are people staying in your room.”
About 16 hours later, on Labor Day, I uprooted my plans and returned with a police escort to gather my belongings, fearful of my safety and personal space. I didn’t want conflict, nor did I intend to move out, I just wanted to feel safe. That same day I informed the officer and “party in pink” of my intention to stay, only to bring my belongings back and forth with a suitcase.
A week after being told, on two separate occasions, the damage would be fixed, I returned to East Hampton. A photo from my other housemate showed a stranger sleeping in my room. Upon return to the house, in addition to nothing being fixed, furniture was moved around and I found used condoms, tampons, trash, and tobacco spit throughout the room, not in a designated trash bin.
I had enough. It was time to take action….
I verify all of the above is accurate and can be proven. This is not a vindictive post aimed to defame any persons, which is why no names or addresses are given out. I am simply telling my true story in hopes others can learn from my experience.
If you’re experiencing a similar situation and would like to discuss you can comment below.