How To Prepare For Short-Term Renters Next Door
How to deal with the ever-rotating cast of characters that occupy your neighbour’s holiday rental.
How to deal with the ever-rotating cast of characters that occupy your neighbour’s holiday rental.
My neighbour Bill just told us he is going to rent out his home on a short-term-rental site. Our neighbourhood has always been quiet and peaceful and filled with year-round, full-time residents, so this is new and sort of scary to all of us. How concerned should we be?
Signed, Bill’s Neighbour (a fictitious human)
Dear Bill’s Neighbour:
It was nice of Bill to mention that he was going to be renting the house. I note, however, that you did not say he asked if you would mind, so we have to assume he doesn’t care. Is Bill a little bit of a jerk? A “shovels his driveway but not the old lady across the street” kind of a guy? It doesn’t matter because Bill is now dead to us. You and your neighbours have to worry about yourselves.
The amount of concern you should have about the new, rotating cast of renters next door ranges from “none at all” to “Why is there a car in our pool?” To assist you and your community in dealing with this uninvited incursion by unknown vacationing-type people and other itinerants into your peaceful neighbourhood, here are the various types of short-term renters, and a colour-coded threat level and action plan for each.
Identified by: Nothing. You literally won’t know they’re there. They are quieter than the neighbours who own the house. This type of renter most likely represents the vast majority of short-term renters; people who just want a quiet family vacation somewhere cool in a nice house. Maybe some porch beers. Wave if you see them, which you won’t.
Threat level: Cellophane. A complete absence of threat. You don’t need to do anything unless you want to, which you won’t.
Identified by: Musical selections—be it Lizzo, Kenny Chesney or The Carpenters—that coincidentally match yours and are played at socially appropriate hours and decibel levels. They beckon you to come over for drinks when they see you because they want to learn more about your interesting home town. You dig them. You swap emails and make plans to connect when you’re in their home town.
Threat level: Pink… for—LOVE them!!
Identified by: Large groups who you can hear talking even when inside your own house because they are always talking at the top of their lungs, though standing mere feet apart. Their cars fill your neighbour’s driveway, part of the street, and will, at some point, block you from leaving your driveway. They give you stink eye when approached about moving the cars. Their music and parties are not quite loud enough and not quite late enough to force you to call the cops, but you’re always a few seconds away from dialing those three magic numbers.
Threat level:Â Chartreuse. Ignore them to the extent possible. They will be gone in a week.
Identified by: Late night parties with music that appears to be entirely bass, screaming fights on the front yard, toddlers meandering aimlessly and unchaperoned on the street, animals of all sorts running off leash, at least three appearances by the cops. Hammering on your front door at 3 a.m. by confused/lost renters demanding to be let in or else they’ll “kick in your teeth.” These renters have zero respect for, indeed seem unaware of, the fact that they are not the only people on Earth.
Threat level: Red mist. Before you wake up in the backyard of Bill’s house with a gas can and a lighter, with no idea how you got there, have a heart to heart with him. Tell him his renters are not only destroying the fabric of the community and violating the town noise ordinances, but they are trying to saw up his wooden patio furniture for the fire pit, have dumped a bunch of green Jello powder into his pool, and are turning his garage door into a mural of some sort. Don’t feel bad about lying. It’s the least of the sins currently occurring on or near your property.
Identified by:Â Thousands and thousands of people. Unconscious or tweaking partiers everywhere, including your bathtub. (Does it matter at this point how they got there?) SWAT team response with National Guard unit on standby.
Threat level:Â For Sale. Move out as soon as you can. Then list with a local real-estate agent who is a good liar (redundancy alert), or find out which short-term-rental site Bill is using.
Reprinted by permission of The Wall Street Journal, Copyright 2021 Dow Jones & Company. Inc. All Rights Reserved Worldwide. Original date of publication: June 3, 2021
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Georgetown agent Jamie Peva blends history and real estate on Instagram, turning local stories into a powerful sales strategy.
On a recent morning in Georgetown—Washington, D.C.’s oldest neighborhood—real-estate agent Jamie Peva strode down leafy N Street, brimming with historical tidbits.
Jackie Kennedy once lived on the street, he said. So did Ben Bradlee, former executive editor of the Washington Post, along with a former Miss America and a powerful U.S. Senator. Bradlee’s widow, author Sally Quinn, and Eric Schmidt, former CEO of Google, own stately homes there.
“I’ve seen a picture of Lyndon Johnson coming out of this house,” said Peva, passing a Federal-style brick mansion. “Also, the Beatles went to a lawn party here.”
Peva, a 60-year-old agent with Washington Fine Properties, has sold Georgetown real estate for over three decades, often traversing the neighborhood by bicycle. Of the roughly 2,500 houses in the historic neighborhood, he has been involved in the sale of 460, he estimated. A self-styled historian of the neighborhood, he knows stories behind its houses and their owners going back generations.
With a knack for lively storytelling, he shares his knowledge with some 37,500 Instagram followers, who have made Peva—sporting the bow ties he has worn since boarding school—an unlikely social-media influencer. Many of his followers are locals, and most have no plans to buy or sell real estate—until they do. It is then, according to Peva, that his spirited reels bring him to mind.
“It’s the digital version of a refrigerator magnet,” he said.
After Peva’s first video in November 2023, his eponymous Instagram account sparked a 10% increase in sales volume in the first year, and another 20% the next, he estimated. “It’s been very good for business, there is no question about it,” he said.
But Peva’s posts have also made him a local celebrity. As he walked down N street, the driver of a Mercedes station wagon slowed down to honk and wave. A lady walking a large dark gray dog stopped to ask what he was filming that day (a reel about a Colonial-era bottling plant.) Peva knew the dog from walking his two springers, Jumpy and Peggy-O, in the neighborhood.
“I need to make a video about the pooches of Georgetown,” he mused.
A growing number of real-estate agents now use social media to sell, and some have millions of followers with reels featuring ultraluxury pads, selling tips or reality TV-style reports on their daily lives. While Peva posts about his listings—and sometimes those of other agents—he mostly focuses on Georgetown history, local businesses and community events, saying his goal is to benefit both his business and the neighborhood.
“If we don’t find something genuinely interesting and worth sharing, we won’t do it,” said Peva’s daughter, Violet Peva, a New York social-media strategist who films, edits and posts his reels. “We cover many topics, not just real-estate information.”
Peva is originally from Connecticut, but has lived in Georgetown for over 30 years, currently in a cottage-style house with a white picket fence. Over the years, Georgetown has changed. The Georgetown Set, a powerful group of Cold War-era residents whose Sunday-night potluck dinners are said to have swayed U.S. policy, has long faded away. The community is still home to high-profile Washingtonians, including a Republican senator and several cabinet members. But it increasingly also attracts technology and finance executives, according to Peva. He now routinely signs nondisclosure agreements, ensuring privacy for wealthy clients. The shift has made him rethink his marketing approach.
“For years, a big part of our Georgetown business was made up of people who maintained a low profile,” he said. Real-estate agents were similarly low-key. Today, curb appeal is more important, he said, and agents are promoting themselves more. “As this change was underfoot, I was thinking that I needed to evolve myself too,” he said.
Though his own social-media use is mostly limited to following sailing accounts, he asked his daughter to help him post his listings online. Violet, now 26, started coming to D.C. once a month to film his reels. After an early video, on a condominium building called the Elliott, her sister Fern called her to report: “Daddy’s blowing up on Instagram,” Violet recalled. The reel got over 50,000 views. The next two each drew over 300,000. Peva’s most popular post ever, with over 838,000 views, was about the Grateful Dead playing in Georgetown. Sometimes, Peva interviews Georgetowners such as Quinn, the author, or Jamie Stachowski, the owner of a local butcher shop.
Peva, who majored in history in college, now spends up to two hours a day on research, usually in the morning while on his stationery bike. Online, he pores over old newspapers or the Library of Congress website, and he has a collection of articles and books—in and out of print—about Georgetown.
Companies often approach Peva for promotional posts, he said, but he turns them down, feeling that followers would lose interest in constant commercials. One exception is a recent paid post on Mount Vernon, the former home of George Washington. Peva wanted to share its history, he said, and didn’t want to lose the opportunity to another Instagrammer.
Anthony Arend, a professor at Georgetown University, has lived in his current home for 19 years without any plans to sell or buy real estate. But he follows Peva and often likes his posts.
“He is very charismatic, he is energetic, and he obviously knows a lot about the community,” said Arend, who has referred house-hunting friends to Peva.
One of Peva’s biggest deals—the $10.5 million sale of a 19th-century Italianate mansion—came after he made two 2024 reels featuring the property. In March, he sold the longtime O Street home of Tim and Jane Matz for $5.8 million after featuring it on his Instagram. Peva had showed them the home 25 years earlier, with Violet in a baby carrier on his back.
Last year, Kate Watts, 49, a digital consultant, called Peva to sell her late father’s three-bedroom house on Q Street; her husband had seen Peva on Instagram. In an October reel, Peva praised the architecture of the house, designed by modernist Hugh Newell Jacobsen. Halfway through, he mentioned an open house the next day, ending with an upbeat: “Did I also mention this house is for sale? $3.75 million!” The reel got 27,000 views, the open house was packed, and the buyers made an offer at the list price on the same day.