Going through a myriad of listings wasn’t easy. Then I found five condominiums I wanted to see—in five different neighborhoods—almost in five different states. Still, the broker was a friend who didn’t mind taking me out to see them all because for five hours work her commission could buy her a new BMW. We drove around in her “so-last-year” Lexus (her words, not mine) and looked at the first four condos, but nothing was a good fit (meaning, they were all too; quaint—tiny, clean—the carpet was cleaned 3 years ago, updated—the microwave didn’t explode pace makers).
The fifth house we visited was nice from the outside—in a good neighborhood—but way too expensive for me. Still, as most realtors and mortgage brokers advise you to buy over your budget (because it will look good on your tax return, and Uncle Sam gives you a break if you actually declare bankruptcy) I said okay to viewing this condo. It had been on the market a little over 24 months. A bit long. But then again, my broker assured me the seller was “motivated.” Motivated by what—greed?
Once we arrived, the motivated seller gave me a long list of reasons why his home cost $50,000 more than anything else in the neighborhood. His laundry list of reasons why his house was worth the money included upgraded light bulbs, doorknobs that actually turned and a toilet that flushed.
After finding out I was a “renter” which the motivated seller called “dumb” he explained inane things, like how everything worked in the condo. How it worked perfectly (except for the forced air heating system that was blowing steam into the apartment, but was set at 65 degrees). “It’s a humidifier,” the motivated seller assured me.
Obviously, the motivated seller thought explaining how things worked to a “dumb renter” was a good sales technique. “Look at this doorknob right here, it turns, bet you never saw one that worked quite that well. And right inside this doorknob—it’s so ingenious—is the lock. You slide the key in here, right into the hole there, see how smoothly it glides in…no lubrication required (was this Doorknobs 101 or Sex Ed?)...and then you turn. See, and then the door opens.” Okay, so I refrained from saying something like, “Well if it didn’t work, you wouldn’t live here, now would you?” And since I’d shown so much interest in the knob and the key mechanism, because, well I actually did like the place, the motivated seller went on to explain the sink and toilet and how if flushed everything (even items public restrooms ask you not to put in them) out to the sewer.
I wanted to scream, “I’m sold. Who could ask for anything more? A doorknob that works with a key that opens it and a toilet that actually flushes everything (they could have used that at Enron!). What a steal—and for only $50,000 over market—I’m amazed it lasted this long. It must be kismet!” Instead, I just ooed and ahed everything. “Very nice. How about that electrical panel, has it been updated?” “Oh that?” the motivated seller said. “Well it hasn’t caused any fires in the 20 years I’ve lived here and I think it’s original. If it were a car it would be a classic!”
“We’ll have better luck next time,” my broker said, as we were driving away from the fifth condo. “I can pull some more listing tomorrow if you’d like.” I could see in her eyes that she was calculating how many more hours she’d have to spend working with me before she could actually purchase that BMW and get rid of her “so-last-year” Lexus. So, I decided not to tell her that after seeing these five condos, I didn’t mind staying a “dumb renter” for a very long time. Instead, I just said, “Sure.”
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