Goldilocks and the Realtor

I was criticized last Friday by my dad (hi Dad!) for not blogging more often. I have been really busy lately though with my real job. Incidentally, I was also chastised for having to make a phone call while at lunch. Sorry Dad, that's the downside of working for yourself and not having a secretary. At least, I could go to lunch, right?

Speaking of real jobs and real estate, I've been having lots of interesting showings lately. One afternoon last week, I showed a house that was supposedly vacant. My client and I went in and discovered a bowl of porridge on the table (actually it was Taco Bell). We went up stairs and I found Goldilocks (actually it was a man) sleeping in the master bedroom. We were naturally a bit surprised although my client was far more startled than I. It's not the first time I've walked in on a sleeper and have even walked into homes where people were taking showers. It's getting harder and harder to surprise me after seven years in real estate.

Upon finding the sleeper, we decided to leave and I intended to tell the agent when she called me for feedback about our little surprise. We were a little late for our scheduled showing time but the agent had told me the house wasn't occupied so I hadn't worried about our timing. When I found the man in the bed I just assumed he was the owner or a friend of the owner and had come home after the time we were supposed to be there. Two days after my showing, the agent called to ask me if there had been Taco Bell trash in the kitchen and if it looked like somebody had been sleeping in the bed upstairs. Well, as a matter of fact... She made a kind of gurgled screaming sound when I told her that not only did it look like somebody had been sleeping in the bed but they were still there.

"What, why didn't you call me?" she asked.

Because, I thought you'd call me for feedback that afternoon and I'd tell you then?!?

Apparently, no one knows who that was eating Taco Bell at the kitchen table or sleeping in the bed. No one really knows how he got in either. Apparently, we walked in on a sleeping trespasser.

I told my buyer-client the story when we were looking at houses a few days later. She was a bit freaked out. Me, I figure if he had gotten out of bed, I would have politely introduced myself, apologized for waking him up and asked if he minded if we went ahead and looked at the master bath while we were there. Maybe it's good he stayed asleep or at least played possum.

Next week, maybe I'll tell you the story about the apartment building, the music professor and the junkie.