Most people hear "real estate" and think you need a down payment, a perfect credit score, and years of patience. But one of the more ignored business ideas in housing sits in the middle: mid-term rentals (usually 30 to 90 days, sometimes longer). It's not vacation rentals, and it's not the classic one-year lease either.
Jesse Vasquez found the opportunity almost by accident. After nearly two decades working in healthcare, he met a traveling nurse who was paying $3,000 a month to stay in what he described as a sketchy Motel 6. That's when the light bulb hit: if traveling clinicians already pay "premium" prices for bad housing, why not give them better housing and still win on price?
A month after starting, he says he was already seeing a few thousand dollars a month in profit from a single door. Years later, he's running a portfolio across owned homes and managed units, with the kind of revenue most landlords never see, and without the constant weekend turnovers that burn people out.
The "Motel 6 moment" that turned into a real rental business
Jesse spent 17 to 18 years in healthcare, working business development for hospitals and agencies. It wasn't a casual job either. He talked about commuting to the Bay Area daily, putting in 10-hour days, then driving four to five hours round trip. That kind of grind has a way of making you notice problems other people accept as "normal."
In 2015, he met a traveling nurse paying $3,000 per month for a motel stay. He described it as a "holy light moment," and his thought was simple: "I can literally rent a property to a travel nurse who was paying $3,000 a month at a Motel 6."
What's important here is he didn't start by chasing a property. He started by spotting demand that already had money behind it. Within the first 30 days, he says he was making meaningful monthly profit. Later, he mentions his first deal cash-flowed about $2,800 after expenses (the video also references $2,000 a month profit early on), which is wild for a single unit in a standard long-term rental world.
He ran it as a side hustle for about five years before going full-time. The pandemic pushed that decision faster than he expected. When he finally left his W-2 job, he said he was earning about $200,000 a year at work, and he only quit once his side cash flow hit around $10,000 per month.
That's the thread that runs through the whole story: treat this like a business, not a hobby listing.
Why mid-term rentals can pay 3 to 5 times more than standard rent
In Modesto, California, Jesse says a typical long-term rental might go for $2,500 per month, maybe $3,000 at the top end. In the same area, he's seen mid-term rentals go for $8,500 or more per month. That's not a small bump. That's 3 to 4 times the rent, sometimes higher.
Part of what makes the pricing work is who pays. In many cases, the lease is paid by a company (staffing agencies, corporate relocation, insurance housing), not just an individual tenant scraping by. Jesse calls out a big benefit too: these are not random short stays. It's often 3, 6, even 9 months at a time, so you're not doing constant cleanings and re-staging.
Mid-term rentals vs Airbnb: fewer fees, longer stays, steadier occupancy
Jesse also draws a line between mid-term rentals and short-term rentals. His framing is blunt: Airbnb is a platform where many hosts race each other down on price, while mid-term rentals are closer to building your own book of business through relationships.
He also points to cost friction. He mentions Airbnb shifting to a 15.5 percent service fee (up from 3 percent), while mid-term rentals, when sourced through direct relationships and leases, don't have platform service fees in the same way.
Here's the core operational difference in a simple side-by-side view:
| Topic | Short-term rentals (Airbnb-style) | Mid-term rentals (Jesse's model) |
|---|---|---|
| Typical stay length | A few nights to a week | Around 90 days on average |
| Occupancy example he shared | Around 60% on some STRs | Around 85% across his mid-term portfolio |
| Cleaning and turnover | Many turnovers per month | One deep turnover every few months |
| Fees | Platform fees can take a cut | Often booked direct through agencies |
The big takeaway isn't "Airbnb bad." It's that mid-term rentals can remove a lot of the churn. If you've ever watched a host juggle five check-ins in a week, you already know why that matters.
For a broader, neutral breakdown of how mid-term rentals are usually run (pricing, sourcing tenants, operations), this guide is helpful: midterm rental strategy guide.
Jesse's model: owning, arbitrage, and co-hosting (and why it scales)
Jesse's operation isn't one tactic. It's a mix of ownership, rental arbitrage, and co-hosting (managing for other owners). At the time of filming, he said he owned 21 properties and also managed additional units, putting his total portfolio north of 30 properties.
One of the most memorable properties in the episode is a "treehouse" style home that he says even got rented by Netflix for a Modesto-related production (he mentions the Laci Peterson interview). He bought that property for $710,000.
He also shares another owned property example: it brings in over $8,000 per month, and he says the mortgage is about $1,900. That spread helps explain how he was able to re-invest cash flow into buying more homes, instead of pulling all profits out for lifestyle.
Why he'd start with arbitrage if he had to do it again
He's also honest about California costs. When you buy, you tie up a lot of capital in down payments and furnishing. He estimates furnishing at about $8 to $10 per square foot (and at another point mentions $8 to $15 per square foot depending on approach). That means a 1,000 square foot home might cost about $8,000 to $10,000 to outfit, including beds, linens, kitchen basics, and the stuff people forget until the first tenant texts at 11 p.m.
Arbitrage can look different:
- Sometimes you rent an unfurnished unit and furnish it yourself (still that per-square-foot cost).
- Other times you rent a furnished unit at, say, $3,000 a month, then place a corporate or insurance client at $7,000 to $8,000 a month, and keep the spread.
He says that on arbitrage deals, they keep 100 percent of the spread (after expenses). On co-hosting deals, his company charges 25 percent of revenue to manage for the owner.
If you want a plain-English refresher on what "rental arbitrage" means, this overview is decent: rental arbitrage business model explanation.
How to start with $0: the relationship-first playbook (not property-first)
This is the part that'll make or break people, because it's not as "fun" as scrolling listings.
Jesse keeps repeating one idea: houses are everywhere, relationships are rare. So he starts with the demand side and works backward into inventory.
He names a few places to begin:
- Agency side: AMN Healthcare and recruiters on LinkedIn
- Insurance housing: ALE Solutions, Dan Housing, and relocation specialists (he says these people "hunt the housing" for the displaced families)
- Local demand mapping: call hospital HR departments and ask if traveling clinicians are coming into the market
- Lead mining: FurnishFinder "unmatched leads," then follow the trail (who they work for, where they got placed, who the recruiter is)
He also shares a "fake it till you make it" credibility move that's actually more practical than it sounds. Build a small rolodex of local owners and investors who would be open to renting their units for corporate housing if you bring them a contract. Then when you talk to an agency, you can honestly say you have access to multiple properties, even if you don't own them.
It's also not a full-time leap on day one. He says most people can start with 10 to 15 hours a week for the first few months, mostly calling companies, gathering info, and building a contact list. That time goes into learning your local demand, not repainting walls.
One quiet rule in his approach: don't go shopping for a house until you know who will pay for it.
The pitch that wins corporate and insurance clients (with real numbers)
When Jesse describes his best clients, he talks about insurance housing with real empathy. These are families who lost homes to fire, flood, or other major damage. He shares a story about meeting a woman named Irene who lost her home in a fire. She cried at the table, then he cried too, and he says that moment changed his mindset from chasing money to providing service. After that, his growth took on a "hockey stick" pattern.
Insurance is also meaningful revenue for him. He says about 35 percent of his business comes from insurance claims, and his average insurance housing client pays around $8,500 per month. Those stays can extend from three months to six, then nine, depending on repairs and claim timelines.
The Dave & Buster's story (and why it's a perfect template)
One of his best examples is a local Dave & Buster's build. He noticed work trucks with Louisiana plates at the site, snapped a photo, then called the company. A contact told him they had five engineers staying at a Holiday Inn Express for $200 per night.
That math comes out fast. He estimates they were paying around $26,000 per month after reduced taxes and fees. Jesse offered a five-bedroom house two miles away for $10,000 per month. They took it, and stayed six months. The company saved a ton, and Jesse landed a clean, long booking.
That's his cold pitch framework in one sentence: find their pain point (hotel cost, scattered teams, long commutes), then offer a better setup for less.
One more language tip he repeats: when talking to owners for arbitrage, don't lead with "Airbnb". He says the word triggers fears about parties, damage, and chaos. Instead, he frames it as housing traveling nurses, construction crews, or insurance clients who are in the community for work and need stable lodging.
The AI trick that helped him find a $39,000 a month opportunity
Jesse also shares a clever use of AI that's more like market research than "automation hype."
He says he asks AI tools about big projects coming into a market within a 40 to 50-mile radius, things like Amazon, Walmart, data centers, hospital expansions. Then he looks for the contractors and agencies behind those projects.
In one case, that research led him to a company breaking ground with 30 employees coming in. He called, and ended up renting six properties at $6,500 each.
The point isn't that AI magically books homes. It's that AI can help you spot demand signals faster, then you still have to pick up the phone and execute.
This "build a real business, don't rent your fate from a platform" mindset reminds me of how other real estate stories went sideways when they relied too much on hype and loose systems. If you want a cautionary real estate tale in that direction, this one sticks: WeWork's dramatic rise and fall in office space rentals.
Systems, ops, and the small stuff tenants actually care about
Once Jesse hit scale, he got serious about systems. He says he uses IGMS for management, TurboTenant for leases, and Google Docs for tracking. He also shares a big operations shift: by year three, he hired VAs and put a team in place, which helped him step back. At the time of filming, he says he works around 15 hours a week.
For finances and bookkeeping, the episode also mentions Baselane as a tool built for real estate banking and tracking. If you want to see what they referenced, here's the offer mentioned: Baselane real estate banking offer.
Maintenance is handled through a mix of in-house people and a contractor rolodex. His take is practical: you don't need a full team for one to five properties, but once you're past that, you need reliable help on call.
Then there's the "tiny details" category, which is where hospitality either feels easy or turns into chaos.
The best amenity he's added for traveling clinicians is blackout curtains, plus noise machines. He ties it directly to how many clinicians work night shifts (7 p.m. to 7 a.m.). That's such a simple detail, yet it's the kind of thing people remember, and it keeps them from leaving early.
What I learned from this (and what I'd do differently if I started tomorrow)
I've seen a lot of real estate content over the years, and I'll be honest, most of it blurs together. This one didn't, because it wasn't obsessed with "units" or flashy renovations. It kept circling back to the same thing: find a real buyer, then supply the housing.
The relationship-first approach also felt more realistic than the usual advice. If you're broke today, you can still call HR departments, message recruiters, or talk to relocation specialists. That costs time, not capital. Of course it's awkward at first. You'll second-guess your pitch, and your voice will get weird on the phone, that happens. Still, it's a repeatable skill.
I also liked the empathy angle, and yeah, it surprised me. The Irene story hit because it made the "insurance niche" feel human, not just profitable. People aren't booking these homes for fun. They're doing it because life got messy, fast.
Last thing, the AI example was a good reminder that tools don't replace the work. The tool found a lead. Jesse still made the call, lined up six homes, and handled the booking. That's the job.
Conclusion: mid-term rentals work when you treat them like a business
Mid-term rentals can pay more than standard leases, and they can be calmer than short-term rentals, but only if you build the demand side first. Jesse's playbook is simple: start with relationships, solve a real housing problem for companies, and build systems early so you don't end up trapped doing everything yourself.