Now that I no longer rent it is perhaps timely to ruminate on what an unpleasant and ghastly enterprise it is. When I look back at all the rentals I've lived in - and we're going back more than twenty-five years - I am reminded of the times that frantic calls to real estate agents met with a glacial response and we'd have to shower in cold water or figure out how to prepare meals with no stove, houses would be sold up under us (with the added nuisance of constantly being bombarded by prospective buyers and having our right to peace trampled, despite still paying full rent), owners or their reps doing inspections and giving the all clear only to magically produce some damage to justify a chunk out of the bond. I have developed somewhat of a healthy aversion to real estate agents and landlords as a result, even though some were very friendly and/or attentive to their tenants' needs.
It does run the other way and I've been a helpless witness to outrageous acts of malicious destruction and careless commotion committed by fellow residents. It's a risky business for all concerned it seems.