A few months ago I was searching frantically for an apartment in the Tel Aviv housing market from hell. I ranted and raved and was fear-ridden but ultimately found a place in a wonderful neighborhood on a wonderful street in a building filled with wonderful neighbors who say hello, ask if I need anything and don’t summon the (embarrassed) police because my 4-year-old’s birthday party is “too noisy”. (I jest not)
Today I was reminded of the rental market’s sickening edge by my friend Jellyfish.
Jelly IM’d: I have to get out of my apartment. The landlady wants to raise the rent.
By how much? I mean unless it’s drastic, take into account that rents have increased across the board and the value of the dollar has dropped so it might be wiser to stay put.
Right. If it’s drastic. Okay.
So how much does she want?
She’s going from $750 to $1500.
No. I don’t.
That, dear readers, is the most outrageous landlord audacity I’ve heard to date. Top that, if you can!