Where cozy means tiny and charming means needs work.
Additional rent paid by retail tenants based on a percentage of their gross sales above a threshold, common in shopping centers. It's the landlord's way of ensuring they profit from your business success while you bear all the risk.
A fee charged for paying off a mortgage early, compensating lenders for lost interest income. It's the bank's way of punishing you for financial responsibility and denying them years of interest payments.
The actual floor space a tenant can occupy, excluding common areas like lobbies and hallways. In commercial leases, this differs from rentable square footage through a multiplier that ensures you pay for space you can't actually use.
Living or occupying space without paying rent, either through arrangement, squatting, or as a benefit. In modern slang, it's also when someone or something occupies your thoughts constantly without deserving the mental real estate—like that embarrassing thing you said in 2015. The literal version is much less psychologically damaging.
Freelance scouts who hunt for investment properties and tip off investors in exchange for a finder's fee. They're essentially real estate informants who get paid to sniff out deals before they hit the MLS.
The decidedly low-tech practice of cruising neighborhoods looking for distressed, vacant, or neglected properties to target for investment opportunities. It's like Pokemon Go, but instead of catching Pikachu, you're hunting for overgrown lawns and peeling paint.
Short for 'subject to'—acquiring a property while leaving the existing mortgage in place and making payments on behalf of the seller. It's a creative financing technique that makes attorneys nervous and investors wealthy.
A property marketing status indicating a listing will be active shortly, used to generate buzz and pre-market the property before it officially hits the MLS. It's the real estate equivalent of a movie trailer, complete with the same level of hype.
A euphemistic phrase suggesting the current owners maintain their property immaculately, or more cynically, that they've over-improved it beyond what the market will bear. Translation: someone really loves their home, possibly too much.
The total acquisition cost of a multifamily property divided by the number of rental units, providing a quick metric for comparing deals. It's how apartment investors reduce complex investments to a single number they can text each other.
The accelerated property deterioration and landlord exhaustion resulting from high-maintenance tenants, frequent turnovers, or challenging neighborhoods. It's the reason experienced landlords develop that thousand-yard stare.
The theoretical rental income from a vacant unit that's factored into pro forma projections but not actually being collected. It's the imaginary money that makes cap rates look better on paper than they are in reality.
One one-hundredth of a percentage point, used to describe interest rate changes and fees without dealing with decimals. It's how mortgage professionals make 0.25% sound more important by calling it 25 basis points.
In construction and real estate, the detailed process of measuring and quantifying all materials needed for a project from blueprints, basically turning drawings into shopping lists. Also known as "quantity takeoff," it's the unglamorous math that prevents contractors from discovering mid-project that they're three truckloads of concrete short. Get it wrong, and someone's explaining cost overruns to very angry people.
The noble art of physically visiting comparable properties to verify that online photos haven't been taken with a fisheye lens from the ceiling. It's due diligence for agents who don't trust Zillow's measurements or the laws of physics.
A contract binding a buyer to an agent for a specific period, ensuring the agent gets paid even if the buyer tries to ghost them after months of work. It's basically a pre-nup for the house-hunting relationship.
Scheduling multiple property viewings in rapid succession, typically in the same neighborhood, to maximize efficiency and minimize windshield time. It's speed dating for houses, and just as exhausting.
A property built on speculation without a specific buyer in mind, using builder-grade everything in beige or gray. The housing equivalent of business casual—safe, boring, and designed to offend absolutely nobody.
A seller's request for all interested buyers to submit their absolute top offer by a deadline, usually because multiple lowballers are circling. It's the real estate version of 'final answer' from Who Wants to Be a Millionaire.
The legal sleight of hand where a buyer transfers their purchase contract to another buyer before closing, often used by wholesalers who never intended to own the property. It's contract flipping without the renovation show.
When a seller accepts a higher offer after already agreeing to sell to someone else, legal in some markets and utterly infuriating everywhere. It's the real estate version of being left at the altar, except the bride married someone richer.
The buyer's revenge for gazumping—lowering your offer just before closing when the seller is desperate and has likely already bought their next home. It's financial chicken played with people's entire lives.
Industry slang for properties with minor cosmetic issues that scare away typical buyers but are catnip to investors and DIYers. Think ugly carpet and dated wallpaper, not structural disasters—though agents sometimes blur that line.
The escape hatch in every smart buyer's offer—a contingency allowing them to back out or renegotiate if the inspection reveals the house is held together by hope and termites. It's the 'just kidding' clause of real estate.