I’m showing a couple around a house for sale. They make all the right noises, and it is well within their budget. Suddenly, the wife starts asking a lot of really specific questions.

Potential Buyer: “Are all the shelves included?”

Me: “Yes, all shelves are included.”

Potential Buyer: “I’m not sure I like them.”

Me: “I know that the homeowner did mention that could be easily removed and he stated that he still has some of the original paint.”

Potential Buyer: “Oh, I think we would repaint.”

Me: “Great, that would work well.”

Potential Buyer: “Do you think he would move the shelves?”

Me: “Move? As in, take them down and put them up somewhere else?”

Potential Buyer: “Yes, over there somewhere.”

Me: “That’s not a typical query, but you can ask, and maybe after contracts have been signed.”

Potential Buyer: *Aggressive* “No, no, no. I want to see if they look good before I make my offer.”

Me: “I can ask, but I doubt that would be possible.”

Potential Buyer: “Well, tell him that he does it or I won’t buy it. See how he likes that!”

Me: “Not a problem. I will do that later.”

I had a chat with the homeowner. I advised him not to do anything of the sort and instructed the office to take no more bookings for this house from that woman.

We agreed on an asking price offer a few days later with a different couple. The first woman was furious: “How dare we sell the house she was negotiating on!?”

I spoke to the new owners a few months after they moved in. All went to plan, and yes, they kept the shelves.

We have been looking to move to a specific area in a specific city. Houses rarely go up for sale, so we signed up with every estate agent that works in the area to get notifications as soon as a house came up for sale.

One house was emailed to me that I swear we saw a long while ago; it was hard to forget. It was way overpriced and an absolute tip. It was grubby and outdated and had several DIY “improvements” that made no sense.

Of course, every estate agent then emailed me to let me know it was for sale. I replied to each of them that this house wasn’t for us. But the emails kept coming, every other day, for weeks.

I was deleting them at first. When I read them, I realised they were all from one estate agent, one of the first I had told I wasn’t interested. 

Eventually, he rang me.

Estate Agent #1: “Hi! [Long spiel]. Just checking you got my emails about the property for sale.”

Me: “Oh, yes, I did, actually. I thought I responded that I wasn’t interested.”

Estate Agent #1: “Are you sure? Properties don’t go up for sale very often and this is a big property.”

Me: “I know, but it’s way over our budget and I think we will wait.”

He followed up with a push to go see the house even though we couldn’t afford it. He kept harping on and on about the house with really specific details of what was spent on it and improvements. I just said yes to get him off the phone. I called back the next day to cancel, and luckily, I spoke to a different associate.

Me: “I’m ringing to cancel a viewing on [Property]. It’s [My Name].”

Estate Agent #2: “That’s odd; we don’t have you booked in. Who did you speak to?”

Me: “It was [Estate Agent #1].”

Estate Agent #2: “That makes sense. [Estate Agent #1] no longer works here.”

Me: “Oh, okay. Well, I’m happy to receive property updates, just not on that property.”

Estate Agent #2: “Yes, not a problem. That property is no longer represented by us.”

Me: “O… kay? Good, then, I think.”

When the agent responds, it almost sounds like they’re reading from a script.

Estate Agent #2: “It was a conflict of interests, and we cannot represent a property where one of our employees may have an active stake or controlling interest.”

Me: “Ah, that explains the insistence, and probably the price.”

That was the last time I saw that property advertised, and we did find another one eventually, in better condition and price.

[Coworker] has been complaining about selling his house for months. It’s a little rundown two-bed in the middle of nowhere. From what I saw in the photos, it looks way overpriced. He has mentioned that all the offers have been less than what he wants, and he isn’t going to take less than the maximum the estate agent said it could (possibly) get.

Me: “Morning, [Coworker], you all right?”

Coworker: “Yeah, although I’m sick of these buyers wasting my time.”

Me: “Oh, yeah, I forgot you left early the other day. Did it not go well?”

Coworker: “Another offer below the asking. I don’t know why they waste my time.”

Me: “Do you think that the price might be a little high if everyone is offering less? I mean, due to the market at the moment.”

Coworker: “I was told that the house was worth up to [high price] and that’s what I want!”

Me: “Fair enough.”

I think, “Don’t moan all the time, then.”

Coworker: “I’m going to put in a cheap kitchen this weekend. Do you have any tools?”

Me: “Not for kitchens, sorry. I didn’t realise it needed a new kitchen. Are you doing it yourself?”

Coworker: “Well, [TV Show] said it could increase the value of the house. And they fitted a kitchen in an afternoon.”

Me: “Okay, wow. Well, good luck.”

I eventually found out that he fitted the cheapest kitchen he could find, and he didn’t do a good job of it, either. Another six months and he finally sold for even less than the offers he’d received before. Of course, this was all the buyer’s fault somehow.

I found a well-paying job as a software engineer in Berlin and naively believed that I wouldn’t have any trouble finding an apartment in the largest city in Germany.

As it turns out, the competition for vacant apartments was FIERCELY competitive and applying was akin to buying raffle tickets. Each apartment showing would have approximately twenty to thirty people piling their applications onto a tower of other applications, only ONE lucky applicant receiving the apartment. And as I would leave, I would pass by another crowd of thirty-plus people appearing for the next appointment showing. To gauge the level of competition I was up against, I posted a fictitious advertisement for an apartment — no photos, crappy part of town, more expensive than usual. Twenty-four hours later, there were 315 messages in the site inbox!

I found myself living in hostels, and out of desperation, I decided to try something innovative. I posted an advertisement offering a €2,000 reward to anyone who was either moving and willing to give up their apartment to me or otherwise knew someone else with a vacant apartment they were willing to give me.

As I should have guessed, this attracted a number of aspiring con artists. I say “aspiring” because either I have the word MORON stamped on the back of my head or they’re accustomed to swindling third-graders.

Message #1: “Send the reward money in cash to [post office box] and I’ll help you out!”

Message #2: “I own an apartment in [Area]. Meet me at [Restaurant], bring the €2,000 in cash with you, and we can discuss the terms of the lease.”

Message #3: “I have an apartment I’m ready to move out of. Send the reward money to [bank account number] and I’ll give my landlord a three-month notice, and it’s all yours!”

Message #4: “My mom owns an apartment. Give me the €2,000 and I’ll have her hold it for you!”

I ended up amending the advertisement to say that the reward would be paid AFTER the keys and signed lease were in my hands and I was physically in said apartment. This drastically whittled the responses down to people who actually did have an apartment they were planning to vacate.

Fortunately, I ended up finding an apartment, and ironically, the girl who gave it to me insisted I keep the €2,000.

I am a real estate attorney and I handle closings on home sales, estate sales — basically anything related to home sales. I have an acquaintance who also does the same thing, so we occasionally meet up at closings, etc. He related this story to me about ten years ago.

He is handling the estate of a man who passed away and left his house to his twenty-five-year-old son. After paying off the remaining mortgage, property, and estate taxes, the son is left with proceeds of about $40,000. My friend draws up a check and gives it to the son. The son is very polite during the whole process and thanks him for his assistance, which has taken several weeks to process. He leaves the office with the check. About a minute later, he comes back in.

Son: “Hey! I was just wondering, instead of this check, would you be able to do an electronic deposit of the proceeds to my checking account?”

Attorney: “Oh, sure, that’s no problem. Just fill out this form—” *pulls a form out of his drawer and hands it to the man* “—and fill out the banking information and all your details. After I enter it into my system, I can process the payment.”

Son: “Oh, great. How long will this take?”

Attorney: “Not long at all! Once you complete the form, I just type in the information into the system and submit the funds transfer. Then it takes twenty-four to forty-eight hours for the deposit to hit your account. Since today is Wednesday, most likely you’ll have the money by tomorrow, but no later than Friday.”

Son: “Perfect, let’s do that!”

They complete the process, which takes about fifteen or twenty minutes. After they’re done, the son thanks the attorney and goes on his way.

Jump ahead a little over a week, and my attorney friend starts getting a bunch of calls from people he’s written checks with during the past week to ten days.

Caller: “Hey, [Attorney], that check you wrote me bounced!”

Attorney: “What?! Are you serious?”

Caller: “Yes, for certain.”

Attorney: “I can’t understand. There’s plenty of money in my account. It must be a problem at the bank. I’ll call them and let you know what’s going on.”

He got almost a dozen calls just like this.

After calling his bank, he found out what had happened. That man who left with the check for only about a minute used the mobile banking app on his phone and made the deposit that way. Then, he came back in, got the electronic transfer money, and ended up with $80,000 instead of $40,000. He then immediately closed his account as soon as he had the money, got a bank check for the balance, and left for somewhere in Europe the next day. This all but wiped out my friend’s checking account. He had almost a dozen check payments that he had to reissue, which took him several weeks to do.

My attorney friend tried for weeks to get the money back, but they were unable to trace where the guy — or his money — had gone, other than that he’d fled the country to Europe, and how they found that out, he didn’t know. He filed a claim with his bank that the check had been fraudulently deposited, but as of the last time I spoke to him a few years ago, he still hadn’t got his money back; it was still being worked on.

He did change his procedures, though. He tells all clients now what their options are for receiving their money, but once they choose one and leave the building, their choice can’t be changed.

Lesson learned, and by me, too! I’ve never encountered this issue, but I follow the same process and am insanely careful about financial procedures in my office.