One reader who has been following the saga of model Aubrey Hill’s subletter in The Real Deal is the judge in his eviction case, Adam R. Meyers.
The judge observed that subletter Tasheem Jenkins was “less focused and animated” at his July 14 court appearance than at previous hearings, perhaps because “of being the object of a media campaign seemingly designed to cause him embarrassment.”
TRD’s “media campaign” aimed not to humiliate Jenkins but to depict how hard it can be for landlords to regain control of an apartment, even from someone with no authorization to live there, no resources, and a self-reported history of incarceration and substance abuse.
The articles showed Jenkins to be savvy enough to have lived rent-free in Apartment D of 367 Wadsworth Avenue since late 2023, despite the best efforts of the landlord’s legal team to oust him.
Jenkins accomplished this with no lawyer, no legal training and no lease — just his own instincts and a set of keys from Hill, a fashion model and longtime family friend who left the country early last year after ignoring a signed agreement to repay her rent arrears.
Hill’s subletter was by no means a savant. When evaluated by a medical professional sent by the Adams administration, Jenkins was unable to calculate how many quarters are in $2.75, even with assistance, and struggled to name the president of the United States, although he correctly guessed “Trump.”
But Jenkins was smart enough to hold onto Apartment D when Hill, the first high-fashion model from West Virginia, received an eviction notice and moved to Europe.
Many rulings in the eviction case went against him, primarily because he showed no capacity to pay the tens of thousands of dollars in arrears, let alone the $1,675 rent going forward. Yet he cogently defended his rights in court and adroitly pivoted to new legal strategies every time eviction seemed imminent.
Jenkins showed the court his sublet agreement with Hill, who had hidden it from her landlord. He sought a one-shot deal from the city to pay Hill’s arrears, but could not get one without a lease. He applied for a CityFHEPS rental voucher. He claimed succession rights, saying he had lived with Hill for four years, but was denied. He had knee surgery and got a case number from Adult Protective Services, which later dropped him. He appealed court rulings. Each effort bought him more time.
A default judgment was issued as far back as February 2024. At least once, a city marshal was days away from removing him from Apartment D.
His latest — and possibly final — potential savior was the Adams administration’s Department of Social Services, which sought to have a guardian appointed to help Jenkins fight eviction. DSS wanted the owner of 367 Wadsworth Avenue, rather than a city-funded homeless shelter, to house him.
It was DSS that arranged for the medical evaluation, which took place in the contested apartment.
But now, Jenkins might have no cards left to play. Judge Meyers, a former advocate for tenants, declined last month to appoint a guardian, noting that Jenkins had been “a capable and creative self-advocate” and had quit drugs and alcohol last year.
With a flourish of legalese, the judge essentially paraphrased economist Herb Stein’s famous saying, “If something cannot go on forever, it will stop.”
“Petitioner was awarded judgment of possession against Jenkins almost a year ago, and its ability to realize this relief cannot be delayed indefinitely,” the judge wrote.
He paused the eviction through Aug. 29, giving Jenkins time “to vacate the premises with dignity.”
Read more
Fashion model’s unauthorized roommate fends off eviction again
Squatter clings to model Aubrey Hill’s former Manhattan apartment
4 years, $60k in arrears: A portrait of housing court delays at their worst
