About Ottawa's Carp

It had been a slow weekend for Agent Valerie. Her two Buyers were out of town and the Open House that she had scheduled for Sunday was cancelled when the house sold on Thursday. Sunday was going to be truly a day of rest. At 12:30 the phone rang. It was Seller Mark. He sounded anxious, maybe a bit angry, and wanted to see Valerie that afternoon. He said he was fed up trying to sell his house on his own and had decided to concede on some of Valerie's points. Valerie said she would meet with him at 3:00, at his home.

Valerie collected the paperwork. She printed off the comparable sales and current listings for homes in Mark's neighbourhood. She printed blank copies of all the listing forms and a page with some people that she would be referring to Mark for work that may be required in and around his home.

At 3:00, Agent Valerie rang Mark's doorbell. Mark had left his homemade For Sale sign stuck, slightly askew, in the lawn. A quick glance around and Valerie noted that the garbage was piling up along the side of the house, that the wood window frames were starting to peel and that the front concrete steps and metal railing had seen better days. All of this made a bad first impression and Mark was asking $75,000 more than the comparable sales would suggest.

The door opened and Mark's wife, Lou, welcomed Valerie into the home. Since the last visit, things had gone from not bad to bad to worse. It was clear that Mark wasn't the only one fed up with the house not being sold. Everyone seemed to have given up. Wife Lou offered a coffee but, given the state of the kitchen, Valerie declined. There are some risks that Agent Valerie just would not take.

It was annoying that Mark was MIA. Apparently his brother-in-law, Lyle, had called and asked for Mark's help to bottle the beer he was making in his basement. Off Mark went, leaving Lou to hold the fort. With no Mark in sight, Valerie asked if she and Lou could tour the whole house to see if there was any work needed before a possible listing through her brokerage. The last time Agent Valerie was there, she was allowed no further than the living room. Now it was obvious why.

It was like a tornado had hit the house. Everything was covered in stuff. There were old sandwiches and chip bags on the coffee table, several collections of bric a brac and mountains of half packed boxes, wrapping paper, cat hair and dirt. The walls were covered in different wallpapers. The maps tacked into the walls were maybe hiding something and there was a certain smell that non-cat owners can detect immediately.

It was 3:30. Mark called to say he wouldn't make it home before 5:00 and Lou was clearly in over her head. Valerie left the package of listing forms with a note asking Mark to read through them and give her a call, if he was interested in selling his house. She kept the print-out of the comps because she knew this, and the possible grow op issues and the current state of house presentation needed to be discussed face-to-face. If there was going to be another meeting with Mark it would be on Valerie's terms and in her office.

No more Mrs. Nice Guy.

Photo credit: My sink needs a bailout

Sometimes it is not about real estate. Sometimes it is just to get a giggle or a smile or even a smirk in the middle of the day that will have you telling this one at the table tonight.

What did the fish say when it hit the cement wall?

Wait for it......

"Dam"

Photo credit: The Biggest Fish in the tank @ http://www.flickr.com/photos/bogenfreund/2086574261/sizes/m/