She’s a single mom with a cute little kid and a cute little store on Queen Street.

“Do you know of any place to live, that I can rent, around here?” she asked one morning. And I did not. “I’m really desperate. There is, like, nothing.”

Absolutely right. If you want a place to stay for a night, or a weekend or a week, there are 400 choices. Plus hotels. Lots of them — with three more on the way.

But if you wish to live here for months and months, full-time, it’s another story. This week there are seven rentals in the Old Town, ranging from $3,100 to $9,900 a month. Plus one in Virgil at $3,800. And a couple around Glendale, at three grand to sixty-five hundred.

So where do the 7,500 local retail and hospitality workers live? 

Not our problem, say the political leaders. NOTL housing is too precious, expensive and income-producing to be used for affordable digs. Airbnbs, on the other hand, are not only welcome, but effectively subsidized.

So while most other towns and cities have banned short-term vacation rentals where nobody lives full-time, making them essentially mini-hotels, in this ‘hood they’re still big business.

More than 120 of these are packed into the few blocks of Old Town itself. On some streets the quickie-rental houses outnumber those of residents.

Often they’re the smaller, cottage-type places that might be affordable to renters or young families, now in the hands of others who run them as enterprises.

No real wonder, then, that this place sprouts few kids. Or that the demographics skew older, whiter and wealthier. Or that most new listings this spring are in the $2-million range.

But wait. Is change on the horizon?

After years of study and community recommendations (mostly rejected) NOTL staff has suggested changes to the way short-term rentals are run — including making people wait eight years (up from four) to register a new-build as an Airbnb. Better, but not enough, says Norm Arsenault.

The former local politician this week beseeched the current ones to follow the lead of most places and punt unhosted rentals — those places that stand empty most of the winter and turn into party-central during summer weekends — from urban areas.

Arsenault calls it an invasion, saying, “Noise, traffic, never-ending parties during the high tourist season are just some of the issues that residents in the urban areas have had to contend with for the past 12 years in NOTL.”

That’s just the start of the war against the B&B property barons. Arsenault also wants the owners of unhosted operations to pay business taxes (not cheaper residential ones) because, after all, that’s what they are — businesses. Only individuals, not corporations, should be allowed to own these properties, he says.

There’s more. Apartment units should be reserved for long-term tenants, not thrown into the online tourist pool. And no place with a pool or a hot tub should be granted a short-term rental licence, since that’s just a recipe for neighbourhood noise, disruption and mayhem.

“This is ruining our neighborhoods,” he tells me. “And I’m going to try and shame councillors into change because at some point they have to step up.”

This week, “baby steps.” Council froze (at 231) licences for cottages and villas. But no ban on the unhosted.

Well, we’ll see.

By the way, after last week’s big meeting of the new residents’ rebel group, council member Maria Mavridis reached out. She was there. And she did not like “the political tone.”

“I will admit it’s disheartening to see familiar faces at public meetings,” she says, “people I’ve known for years — who have never once reached out to share their concerns or perspectives, yet are quick to suggest that I’m not listening.”

Here’s a good chance to change that.