Damn and blast, and a great many other much shorter and sharper words. While we won’t have confirmation until Monday it seems quite likely that we are going to lose the studio; some of you may be surprised but not half as surprised as I was. The story goes thusly;
We had negotiated all the general terms from both sides and everyone seemed quite happy with it, the landlord just wanted some clarification on the planning permission for Jon’s use of the back as a workshop. I contacted the council, explaining to them that this information was quite urgent so we could get on with proceedings and I was guarenteed a quick return on my basic information enquiry. Two weeks and we don’t hear anything useful so I contact the estate agent and ask him about whether we can just get on with things.
I should point out that mirroring the apparent general perception in popular culture my experience of estate agents has been rather negative over the many months and various property viewings that make up this entire affair. However the estate agent we’ve been dealing with for the would-be studio has been useful, honest and upfront which was very refreshing.
But (I know gramatically you should never start a sentence with a conjunction, but dramatically it works quite well) this is where it all went south. Seems another bidder had come along and offered the landlord a full year’s rent upfront, and quite probably had less points of negotiation than we did. Can’t really blame the landlord for his decision as it’s guarenteed money so looks like he’ll be going with this bidder. I’ve tried to match the offer but I’m thinking it’s too little too late.
It’s a shame (which is not exactly how i would have put it immediately after that phone call) but these things happen, it can’t be helped. We do face trouble now as with the recession receeding prices will not be so rediculously low and we’ll have less to negotiate with but hope springs eternal and we shall continue looking.
I will miss the genuine leather and moon poverty though…