January 18, 2010

So our house has been on the market now, since just before the Holiday season.
Selling your house sucks.
Don’t get me wrong, I love getting my house ready, so we can all leave, and let total stranger’s explore my house. Knowing that anyone with a realtor, can rob me blind, rifle through my underwear drawer, or erase everything on my DVR, does not sit well with me. Plus, they always want to come on the weekends, which means football time. So far, we’ve been able to get the showings all scheduled around the games I really want to watch, but luck can only last so long.
It’s all starting to get really old.
Today, we got a call from our friend/realtor, asking if we would be able to show the house at 4:30. It was 5 til 4:00 when we got the call. So we picked up the toy’s, put a spit shine on the counter’s and floor, booby trapped my underwear drawer so we would know if it had been tampered with, and headed out.
One of us also has to take the dog, which is usually me.
It’s getting really, really old.
The good news is, as old as it’s getting, we’re getting a lot of traffic. Every weekend, we have 3 or so showings, and usually a couple during the week as well. Sooner or later, some poor saps gotta bite.
The problem is, I don’t know how much more I can take. Considering the heavy traffic our house is seeing in this depressed market, and against the advice of pretty much everyone who has ever sold, or bought a house, I think it’s time to jack the price up fifty grand or so. Sure, it may kill our chances of selling the thing, but not only will it give us the chance to make more cash, it’ll sift out the really serious buyers, but it will keep me from having to deal with strangers in my house.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve developed “problems” dealing with stranger’s, people I don’t like, and pretty much the general public as a whole. I no longer care, so I have no reason to adhere to the social norms.
This is why, I’ve decided that if I’m going to have total strangers peeking through my house, I’m going to have to start fucking with them a little.
Sure, any good realtor will tell you this is a bad plan, but I no longer care. I don’t have to sell my house, I can sit on it until I build my new house, and rent the old one if I have to. So the way I see it, I hold all the good cards in this hand.
It’s the perfect plan.
Not only will I get to maybe sell my house, but I get to fuck with total strangers in the process.
Now, I’m not going to go all “over the top” and make my house into a total freak show or anything. No nude pictures hanging on the walls, no fresh hams curing in the basement, nothing too crazy. What I’m shooting for is a more subtle, deeper level of strange.
I figure if I make it look all nice and pretty, smelling like a candle shop, well lit and clean, then I can really go to town.
For instance, what if you see a nicely updated mid-eighty’s sub-urban Northern Columbus home with an open floor plan, in a great neighborhood, in one of the states best School districts, and all hard-wood, and tiled floors, an updated kitchen, with state of the art appliances, and all the fixings, then, you open the cupboards and discover all of them are filled with an insane amount of bottles of maple syrup? Not just a few bottles of syrup, but hundreds. Many of them open.
Or maybe, in the living room, everything is nice and pretty, and then you notice that the magazine rack is filled with Hustler’s? Hundreds of Hustler’s.
What if you go into the bathroom, and the tiled floors and walls are cleaned nicely, and then there’s a treadmill in the shower?
What do you do then?
Do you buy the house? Do you tell your friends about the syrup?
It’s the perfect plan.
I’m actually gonna enjoy this whole process.


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