I came here in order to look at a place listed in the Columbia Waterfront District. I let Frank and his associate know that, while I was interested in what I saw in the ad, I would not be able to rent for another two months, so I didn't want to waste their time, but perhaps, as new properties came up, they could keep me in mind and give me a heads up. I thought this was more than ethical and upfront. Anyhow, they were happy to show me the place all the same, which, happened to look like a tornado had run through it. The broker says to me something along the lines of, "I'm not sure what the landlord was thinking with this paint color (hardly even fully painted btw), he's a weird guy to be honest. But yeah, a couple coats of paint throughout here, a little this, a little that, maybe a few hundred dollars all said and done, and it should look alright." I'm thinking, isn't that the landlord's job before putting it on the market? More importantly, aren't you supposed to be selling me on this place, or at least giving minimal effort towards such ends? Anyhow, I return back to the brick and mortar and, as much as I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this experience was, I endeavored to stick with the plan of perhaps having them keep me in mind should something come up down the line. Frank Galeano made sure to mention that that place I had just seen would in all certainty be moved within the week (it took two months) and then made persistent effort to try and get the listing for the apartment I was moving from - as if he just scratched my back and I should scratch his. As much as I kept explaining that I really couldn't help out with that, he kept pushing. What a joke. I wound up running into him outside the shop a month or so later. As I began speaking to him, a group of locals happened to approach, at which point, he immediately stopped engaging me and began to converse with the neighborhood cronies. As I stood their awkwardly, I eventually made a comment like, "Oh, well I don't want to bother you..." to which he stated, "What are you talking about, we're just talking here, you're not bothering anyone..." I had to run anyway, but, I joke not, he found a way to ask me one last time to try and get him the listing at my apartment on my escape out. Yikes. read more