curious days

Yesterday and today I turned myself inside out to accommodate possible buyers, and then they made an 'offer' that was oddly insulting. The offer was missing pages, it had many significant errors (my address was wrong) it told me my place was crap and I better run fast now, and take this offer which was extremely low, because we're aiming for a crash and it won't be worth anything soon. It was pretty unfunny at first but then my realtor and I cracked up, it was so ridiculous. Imagine trying to bully someone into selling to you, by telling you the place you are selling is junk, although they didn't put in subject to an inspection. Huh? They were trying to panic me, but I happen to think my place is very fine. I'm not selling it because it's a bad place. I'm selling it because I want to make a change in my life. But there's no urgency. So I said no.

I didn't counter, because it was nonsense. They asked both too much and too little.

Anyway, it reminded me, in it's curiouser and curiouser way, of an open house my partner and I went to in Victoria last weekend. We were just poking around, snooping at opens, and then found ourselves in Esquimalt following the signs to a house we hadn't planned on seeing. Turns out it was a for-sale-by-owner. There were hammers banging as a couple of guys worked to rebuild the basement stairs (though it looked more like they were dismantling it) and the grinding sound of a power saw intermittently blasting our eardrums. She was cooking up a storm in the kitchen, and it didn't smell particularly appetizing. There were people all over the house, no lights on. Some rooms empty, some furnished. The basement was a rabbit warren of rooms, not particularly inviting, and all of this alone would have been enough to send me running away from this seller, the way I ran from today's buyer.

But then the most peculiar thing. She knocked on a door in the basement, said the tenant was in, opened the door a crack, and said "here's his room." It was a shambles, and dark, and I stuck my head in. Around the corner was a mattress on the floor, and there lay the tenant, tucked into bed with a young woman nestled into his arms. He looked quite pleased with the state of affairs. Alas, my partner didn't see, and somehow I didn't feel I could say, "hey, have a look at this." As we stepped away, the owner said, "he's in love." And I said "yeah, I can see that."

We aren't ready to make an offer and anyway, she was asking too much for too little. It was such a shame, really. The house could be lovely, without the slapdash reno.