“Isn’t anyone building any new housing?” she asked.
I decided it would be good to tell a story about what the world will look like in the future after the wildfire of crazy interventions in the housing market results in what I’ve predicted as a government takeover of rental housing. This is the second in that series, a story about a person looking for housing in 2025. Read yesterday’s post Dystopia: A Housing Provider In 2025 Gives Up And Sells.
Louise Jenkins was in a fix. She was happy to have found a new job in the city but she still couldn’t find a place to live. Back in the early days of Covid-19, she was hit hard by the lockdowns. She lost her job multiple times, got rehired only to get laid off again. She racked up a lot of unpaid rent.
By the end of 2022 she owed over $10,000 in unpaid rent. She felt regret and fear when she left her apartment later that year without paying it off. But the rent relief she applied for never came. She didn’t qualify. As a white, straight woman she didn’t make the cut and she earned too much money. That made her laugh out loud. She was broke, but occasionally earned good money when the governor opened the state for business.
She left for a job as a bartender and server. She was proud of her work in the service industry. She didn’t finish college because she couldn’t afford it and when her son came along, she needed flexible hours and the possibility of higher pay from tips.
But as the economy started to stabilize in 2022, she managed to get back on her feet. Because of student loan forgiveness and rent forgiveness, by the end of 2024, Jenkins had completed a degree. Now she had a chance to take a paid internship that likely would turn into a job; and this job would pay well with health benefits. Her son was older and more independent, so child care would be less of an issue.
But where would she live? She was happy didn’t have to pay all that back rent, but now in the city where she wanted to live there was almost no housing.
“You have to sign up at the Housing Bureau,” a friend told her. “They take all your information down and then place you somewhere.”
“Place me?” she asked.
“Yeah,” her fiend said. “You can’t choose where you live but it’s almost free.”
So Jenkins filled out paperwork and sat for an interview in a day long process. After she got her “score,” a number based on her race, income, previous housing issues, and other measures she got a card with a number: 569.
“What does this mean,” she asked a woman behind bullet proof glass at the counter.
“That’s your place in line,” the woman said through a speaker. “There are 568 people ahead of you.”
She couldn’t believe it.
“How long is the wait?” she asked.
“Oh, don’t worry,” the woman said. “You got a good number. The kid helps. It’ll be about a year.”
Jenkins almost cried. She didn’t have a year. She needed to get a place soon. She started the internship on the first of the month.
So, she hit the internet and drove around looking for housing. She found a sort of run-down place but it was close to a middle school and her new job. It was called The Iliad. She parked and walked to the office.
There was an African American man in the office moving boxes.
“Oh, hello,” he said. “Looking for an apartment?”
“Yes,” she said. “It looks like you’ve got some vacancies.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just sold the building to the Housing Bureau. I’d love to help you but I think it’s too late.”
“But I can pay $1000 a month,” she said.
“I wish I could take it,” he said. “I’ve got three units empty. But if they found out, well, I don’t know what they’d do.”
“But they said it was a year wait, and you’ve got three units,” she said.
“I know, I know,” he said. “But the Bureau runs things now. Most housing at the price you can pay is full or they own it. So you wait.”
Jenkins looked defeated.
“Well, maybe,” the man said like he was struck by a thought. “Let me introduce myself, I’m Joe,” and and they shook hands.
“I’m Louise,” she said.
“Here’s what I can do,” he said. “I can put you in the best unit I have. But they won’t have it on the record. They can’t evict you because it’s illegal. Do you have a kid in school?”
“I do,” she said.
“Perfect,” he said. “They can’t evict you during the school year.”
“But I’ll be a squatter,” she said.
“Exactly,” he said. “They’ll have no choice. I’ve been boarding up empty units because once someone is in there they can’t be removed.”
“Isn’t anyone building any new housing?” she asked.
“Too damn risky,” he said. “Why build something if you don’t know that you’ll ever get any rent or get forced out by the government?”
“This is crazy,” she said. “I either live here as a squatter, illegally or wait a year?”
“Tell me about it,” he said. “Look, here’s the keys. Check it out. It’s worth thinking about.”
Previous post: A Housing Provider In 2025 Gives Up And Sells
Next in the series: President Sanchez Re-Creates A Housing Market In 2029
