Monday, October 12, 2009

I can't make this crap up

So, Saturday, I have a home showing scheduled for the first time in THIRTEEN days AND the first showing since I dropped the price $10,000. Yeah, I'm not stressing.

On the plus side, I had recently gotten a St. Joseph statue from one of my favorite Catholics (with good luck of his own since this particular statue had helped several people sell their homes). The statue was buried Thursday upside down in the front yard as I was instructed was proper.

Saturday morning, I got up yippy skippy and went down to my house to make sure it was clean, lights on etc. After doing that, then off I went.

A little while later I get a phone call from one of my neighbors. Seems there is a woman on my front porch. She's dropped her stuff off and has begun trying to find ways in the home. She's probably not there to buy the house 'cause she's scruffy and rolling her own cigarettes. This just gets better by the minute. I'm close enough that I tell her I'm on my way there.

I arrive and see my neighbors across the street watching the scene unfold. How to I explain to potential buyers that I basically bought my house because of my neighbors? They totally rock. They are nice, fun, pay attention to what's going on in the hood, and they'll totally hang out with you to watch weird shit unfold.
Back to the story. The cops have been called and strange woman is in my back yard. I, of course, immediately begin heading back there. I hear my neighbor calling from behind me "Do NOT go back there." But it was toooo late, I was practically there.

Sure enough, there is a woman trying to get in the back door.

"Hi, may I help you?" I ask. It is important to be polite to potential psychotics.

"I lost my key," she said.

"No, you don't have a key," I said.

"I lost my key," she said.

"You don't live here, so you have no key," I said.

"But it's 711," she said. (Street number - have to admit I saw her connection immediately)

"I know, it makes me think of the convenience store, too," I said. "But it's not one."

"But like Chevron or Texaco," she said.

"I know," I said.

"I'm gonna buy this house," she said.

"Some how I doubt that," I said, "But you need to leave now."

"I don't want the cops to get me"

"Well, then you had really better get going because the cops are on their way, and you are trespassing."

At which point the cops arrive.

I go back across the street to the neighbors, so that a) my favorite neighbor can remind me I am a total idiot because I had no idea of how that woman would respond. Ok, fine, good point, and b) indeed, it was the real estate agent that called the cops because when the agent (with the cute young, viable home buying couple) arrived. The crankhead was already on my porch. She spoke to them a few minutes and then they turned and left without seeing the house. Fan-freaking-tastic.

I'm thinking hard, if I move quickly enough could I choke the shit out of the poor little wasted crackhead before the cops get me? How would it look on the front page of the newspaper "Ritzy school district yearbook teacher loses her shit and kills crankhead for screwing up home sale." Alright, fine. Wouldn't look good.

As I think of my various options, I begin to notice what the crackhead is wearing. . . and then I notice what I am wearing. Yeah, we're both wearing pink camo pants. I don't even know what to make of that little side note. Although I will add, mine were definitely cuter and they had rhinestones which I think add a touch of glam.

And then, as we wait for the female cop to arrive so that she can search el crackhead I start thinking that this, this, just has to go on the blog. The neighbors saw it in my eyes, because L immediately began saying, do not blog this. I, as you can tell, was totally unable to resist. This is too good. I mean really, how better to show great police protection than have TWO cop cars in front of your house? In the meantime, I had two showings on Sunday. One of the "feedback" responses was "client likes house, just not sure if she is ready to buy" May I present the weird stuff happens so you have stories to tell to great neighbors who will be there in a pinch with great police protection reason for buying a house?



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