I am a realtor, showing a client around a house.
Client: “Does this room go all the way to the back wall over there?”
She points a finger out towards the end of the room, behind some loose cabinets and wardrobes.
Me: “That white wall? The one furthest away at the end of the room? Yes.”
Client: “That is part of the room too?”
Me: “Yes, this room contains all of itself.”
Client: “Thank you.”
I have no idea what just happened, but she bought the house!
When I was younger, we lived with my grandparents. I was the first and only grandchild at the time, so I was spoiled, as you’d imagine. I also had what my grandmother lovingly referred to as a “smart mouth”.
I was probably about six or seven at the time of this story. I can’t remember if it was a school holiday or I was sick or what, but everyone was at work, and it was just my grandma and me. The phone rang, and she answered, but it wasn’t very long before she wandered into the living room with the phone.
Grandma: “[My Name], can you help Grandma out and figure out what this man wants? I’m having trouble understanding him.”
Me: “Sure, Grandma!” *Takes the telephone* “Hello, sir. What can I tell Grandma for you?”
Man: “Hello, dear. I was just explaining how lovely your house was. My clients were interested in putting in an offer?”
Me: “An offer for want?”
Man: “They’d like to offer to buy your house. They’re willing to pay top dollar.”
Me: “But we’re still living here.”
Man: *Groans* “Can you hand me back to your grandma?”
Me: “Sure!”
Grandma smiled and took the phone back.
Grandma: “Hello?” *Pauses* “Well, what did she say?” *Pauses* “Well, if she says we’re still living here, then we must be! She’s the only grandchild; she runs this place! Have a good day!”
My grandma then hung up and gave me a cookie.
For anyone curious, she still lives in that home. The home was her grandmother’s first and was passed down to her mother and then to her. It was even rebuilt after a fire back in the 1960s using the original blueprints. She was born in that house, raised her family in it, and plans to die in it, too.
The housing market is insane right now, but at the beginning of the year, our landlord handed my wife and me an eviction notice. He wanted to renovate the apartment and rent it for twice the price. We worked out a compromise that he would give us six months to find a place.
Since rent is more than a mortgage, we went looking for a home we could afford that both of us, our young son, and our two cats could be happy in. Our agent was a great guy with decades of experience, and we found a little place that needed rehab but was barely within our price range.
Well, the $203,000 wasn’t going to cover the work we would need to do, so our agent struck a deal with the seller (who was also the agent and broker) who had been planning to rehab the place himself anyway and could do it for an extra $30,000. This was perfect for us, so we agreed and got a traditional mortgage for the asking price. It was still a great deal, and we jumped on it. We signed the P&S (purchase and sale agreement) in February, expecting it to be finished at the end of March. Plenty of time to spare.
Until…
At some point, the seller/agent/broker started getting terse with our agent and grumbled that he could get more money for the house. He started complaining about what the rehab was costing him. At one point, we found out that the house didn’t have its own water supply, and upon informing the seller, he went ballistic and proclaimed he wasn’t spending another dime.
By now, we had gone past the March closing date and were into April. Negotiations went nowhere, and we were running out of time. We even talked to contractors ourselves and tried to get permission to get it done ourselves with no response. [Seller] ghosted us for weeks. Finally, he agreed to put the water in, once May had rolled around.
Even then, he had not signed any extensions, and he started sending us extensions to dates we could not meet with the demands of our mortgage company as the seller had failed to sign the necessary paperwork and not allowed an appraisal to be done. He kept sending us release forms to sign to push us out of the deal.
We consulted a lawyer, and that very day, our house was re-listed for $65,000 higher than the price in our agreement.
Our lawyer filed in court. By now, it was the beginning of June.
Eventually, and only under threat of legal action, [Seller] signed the documents we needed, and we were able to push forward and close on the house, with a week to spare before our eviction.
We have lived in the house for less than three weeks now, and we’ve had the gas heater leak, the new gas stove leak, and a power outlet die, and the contractors left a ton of trash in the yard that we will need to pay the city to take away. All of this is on top of the cheap laminate flooring, the painted-over cheap plastic shower, missing vinyl siding, and weeds growing up through the bathroom pipe.
Even with these problems, the house is still worth way more than we paid for it, even with the legal fees, but this guy was going to make my family and me homeless just because he wanted more money. He never even tried to renegotiate, just started swearing at our agent and then ghosted us for weeks at a time.
Well, we still win in the end, and I only wish I could see the face of Mr. Corner-Cutter when we’re ready and have fully finished beautifying that house and land and re-list it for a profit he couldn’t even dream of. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes!
I used to work in tech support at a place that sold mortgages. They had a fairly specialised piece of software that they used.
One of the brokers asked me how to do something specific in that software that I didn’t know how to do off the top of my head.
Me: “I don’t know how to do that, but I will find out and get back to you.”
Broker: “That’s not good enough. You’re a computer expert; you should know these things.”
Me: “Okay, I have a $250,000 home loan with [Bank] over twenty-five years. We are eight years into the loan. If I want to change this to a thirty-year mortgage, how much would my monthly repayments be, and how much extra total interest would I need to pay for the extra five years on the loan?”
Broker: “I’d have to calculate that and let you know.”
Me: “That’s not good enough. You’re a mortgage expert; you should know these things.”
In my ten years in real estate, I will always remember this one interaction that encapsulates the current housing market. An older couple, maybe my parents age, come in and ask to speak to me in person. I don’t recognize them but they introduce themselves as the parents of someone I tried to help find a starter house for but didn’t have much luck in their budget.
Me: “Oh, yes, I remember. How can I help you?”
Mom: “Well, full disclosure, our daughter doesn’t know we’re here. She’s living with us at the moment so she can save up for her downpayment.”
Me: “Yes, I remember her mentioning that.”
Mom: “Well… the thing is…”
Dad: *Aggressively taking over.* “She’s been with us a year already! It’s taking too d*** long! She said she found a house that she wanted to move to, so we’re stepping in to sort this out for her.”
Me: “…okay?”
Dad: “We’d like to put $5,000 down on her behalf so she can put in an offer and move in straight away!”
Me: “That’s very nice of you, but there are a few legal reasons why I can’t do that without her present, but the main reason is that won’t be enough money to secure the mortgage she’ll need.”
Mom: “What are you talking about?! She said she already saved $10,000! With our contribution that should be more than enough!”
Me: “She needs a deposit of $50,000 to secure the house.”
Dad: *Almost spitting.* “Fifty?!… Fifty?! What is she trying to buy, the Playboy mansion?!”
Me: “I’m not at liberty to say, but house prices in the neighborhood average around half a million.”
Dad: “That’s ridiculous! Are these mansions in the middle of the city?!”
Me: “Two-bedroom houses in [neighborhood on the outskirts of the city].”
The two of them just stare are me for an extended moment, waiting for me to say “just kidding!” They figure out that it’s not coming, and they visibly slump at the realization that their grand gesture is nowhere near grand enough.
Mom: “That’s… more than we imagined.”
Dad: “Why did she tell us the house was fifty grand?!”
Me: “Again, I’m not at liberty to say, but maybe check she was referring to the deposit, and not the total amount.”
Mom: *To her husband.* “Now that I recall, dear, I do remember her mentioning the word ‘deposit’ a lot.”
I show them a couple of houses for sale on the window to our sales office for comparison, with some houses in their neighborhood going for between two and three million. They told me they bought their house in 1980 for less than fifty grand.
Their daughter took another two years to save for her deposit, by which time the house she wanted had sold and house prices had jumped up in price again so she had to settle for something smaller, but at least her parents were more patient apparently!
