Navigating my way through the ups and downs of being a property owner in Argentina was way more than I bargained for. It's why I hired a realty company to handle most of the administrative work and legal headaches. I thought this would make things easier. It didn’t.
The realty company did manage to find a new tenant for the first-floor apartment fairly quickly, though there were a couple of hiccups. For starters, I had to review the contract thoroughly to screen for any mistakes or hidden loopholes. I found a few — but more on that in my next post.
Now, let’s talk about what happened with the tenant living on the second floor.
As I mentioned in my previous post, I asked the realty company to prepare a new contract for the second-floor tenant of the two-unit building I own. The clock was ticking — we only had until the end of March before her old contract expired.
But of course, there were complications.
In the third week of March, I messaged the realty company via WhatsApp for an update. They had no clue how to contact the tenant or even what her name was. I was irate, to say the least. I calmly asked whether the sales rep I’d spoken to had passed along all the information I provided. A quick database check showed he had input the details — but hadn’t told anyone on the admin team. Brilliant.
They asked for the tenant's contact info, which I provided, and they promised to reach out immediately. But then I received an automated WhatsApp message saying the admin team was taking a “much-needed mental break” and wouldn’t return until March 26th.
My blood turned to lava.
I fired off another message demanding to know how the hell they planned to work on the tenant's contract if they were off until the 26th.
One of the reps assured me they’d continue working on it despite being officially on vacation.
“Fine,” I thought. At least they were getting the ball rolling. I wasn’t even worried — we still had two weeks left.
Well, by Friday I got a message saying the tenant hadn’t responded to their outreach. So I reached out to her myself via WhatsApp. No immediate response. I updated the realty company. All I got was a “keep me posted” type of response. Useless.
A few days later, the tenant finally contacted me. She said she was out of town and having trouble driving back to Argentina. In my head, I was thinking, How fucking convenient. She knew she had to be here to sign, and now suddenly she wasn’t even in the country — allegedly struggling to get back to Córdoba. But she promised to contact the realty company on Monday with the information they needed to verify her co-signers.
What royally pissed me off was her attitude — like we had all the time in the world until March 31st. I told her, No, we needed this done before the 31st.
You're probably wondering why we even needed this done if she’d already been living there for three years. Well, her previous contract was with a different realty company. We needed to verify her new co-signers to make sure she could actually afford the rent hike — from 87,000 pesos to 220,000 pesos.
On March 26th, the realty company messaged me saying they still hadn’t heard from her. I was beyond pissed. I contacted the tenant again. Nothing. Then on the 28th, the realty company told me they finally received her information. But it was 10 minutes before they closed for the weekend.
So we had to wait until Monday, the 31st.
Remember when I said we needed this done before the 31st? Yeah — at that point, I felt like both the tenant and the realty company had wiped their asses with me. I was ready to tell them both to fuck off.
Somehow, I managed to hang on to what little restraint I had left.
Obviously, the realty company now had to speak with the tenant’s co-signers, who — surprise — weren’t very cooperative.
By April 9th, neither the tenant nor her co-signers had made a fucking move to sign the lease.
At that point, eviction started to feel inevitable. But then — out of nowhere — the realty company told me the tenant had finally come in to sign, and two of the three co-signers had as well. Not ideal, but at that point, I’d take what I could get.
The good news? I could finally give her the total amount due for April: rent, water, and a past-due electricity bill.
Now, speaking of utilities...
This tenant and I have had multiple conversations about her failure to pay the damn light and gas bills on time — three separate occasions in just five months. Finally, I told her I’d lump all the unpaid utility bills in with her rent. Once she paid, I would take care of paying the service providers. Honestly, this is a courtesy I shouldn’t have to extend to a grown-ass adult.
But I’ve noticed a trend: tenants just don’t pay their utility bills. And it fucking sucks. I hate having to remind grown-ass people to pay their goddamn bills. And it’s not like they’ve ever claimed financial hardship. No. The excuses? “I forgot” or “I didn’t have time.” That’s it.
In summary: managing residential property in Argentina is like taking care of babies.
But for a brief moment, it seemed like everything was okay. The tenants from the other property had moved out, so we could begin repairs. We had a new tenant for the first floor. And the second-floor tenant had finally — finally — renewed her contract.
Then, a new nightmare surfaced.