Love's Real Stories

Answering all the real estate questions you never knew you had.

Category: Mishaps

June 5, 2014

Air Force

Two laws that govern the movements of objects inside houses are important to learn.

Law Number One: “If you slam the front door of a house with sufficient force, it will cause the interior walls of that house to vibrate to the extent that a shelf as far away as 24 feet from the point of impact will eject a vase from its surface and send it crashing to the floor below.”

Law Number Two:: “If all the windows and doors in an air-tight house are closed, and you turn on the whole-house fan, and if that whole-house fan is of sufficient size and capacity, it will cause an air suction of such force so as to cause ashes from within a fireplace to be instantly sucked out through the fireplace opening with the appearance of confetti shot from a cannon. A 12-foot radius of flooring in front of the fireplace opening will acquire an ashy-gray hue similar to the surface of the moon.”

I learned of the two aforementioned laws one afternoon while showing a house to my clients Bob and Denise Carlson, and more importantly, their eight-year-old son Mason.

Bob and I stood in the hallway of the house admiring the whole-house fan built into the ceiling. I had never seen one so big and Bob had never seen one at all.

“A whole-house fan,” I said, “is designed to pull stale warm air out of your house. When the outside temperature cools in the evening, you open a few windows, turn on the fan, and it pulls fresh outside air into the house quickly.”

Mason raced around the house opening and closing doors and flipping wall switches on and off. Neither Bob nor Denise showed any concern or any interest in controlling the curious and energetic child.

Mason went outside and rang the doorbell at least 47 times, then slammed the front door, a big heavy oaken mass, with enough force to enact Law Number Two.

A vase wobbled and tumbled off a shelf on the wall beside the fireplace. But the carpet below was thick, plush, and the whitest of white, and cushioned the fall. The vase remained intact.

It was then that Mason found the wall switch for the whole-house fan. I noticed that Mason had opened the glass doors to the fireplace and I was just about to close them, when Law Number Two was enacted.

I forgot to mention in my description of Law Number Two that any objects within the 12-foot radius of the fireplace will also acquire an ashy-gray hue similar to the surface of the moon.

Leave a comment
April 17, 2014

Tricky Houses

Realtors have learned the hard way that houses will often misbehave when their owners are away. Houses will trick the Realtor, test the Realtor, and employ various pranks designed to cause insult and injury. One of the oldest tricks is the self-locking door. The Realtor accompanies his clients out the back door for a look-see at the back yard, and the back door slams shut from the inside, locked tight. Houses generally use the self-locking back door trick only when the Realtor has already left the key to the house (along with the Realtor’s car keys) on the kitchen counter and locked the front door after entering.

The three-legged barbeque is a great tool for a house prank. The mere accidental tap of a Realtor’s shoe will knock the leg of a barbeque off-kilter far enough to send the whole apparatus crashing to the ground like a fallen tree. The noise of the crashing barbeque is unnerving, and the resulting toxic mess of ash, old briquettes and grill-grease strewn across the patio is horrifying. Houses generally use the three-legged barbeque trick only when the Realtor has already left the key to the house on the kitchen counter and is trapped outside via the self-locking back door trick.

Decks are a playground of prank possibilities for houses. Potted plants, rotten deck boards, and loose deck rails have all been used to great effect. In fact, I have seen all three of those possibilities used at the same time. The Realtor trips over the potted plant with his left foot, drives his right foot through a couple of rotten deck boards, and grabs the loose deck rail to break his fall, pulling the deck rail down around his head and shoulders. His clients fuss over him to his great embarrassment, adding insult to his injuries.

Of course, the Realtor tripped over the potted plant in the first place because he was preoccupied, searching for windows that may have been unlocked, because he had left the key to the house on the kitchen counter, and was trapped outside via the self-locking back door trick, not to mention victimized by the three-legged barbecue trick.

Despite the insults and injuries the Realtor may suffer from misbehaving houses, he learns valuable life lessons from the experiences, such as how to maintain a professional demeanor while confronted with his clients’ efforts to distance themselves from his proximity, not to mention how to repair deck boards and deck rails, and scrub grill-grease off of a concrete patio.

Leave a comment
April 1, 2014

Threes

“That’s two,” I thought, and I was reminded of my Grandma, who liked to say, “Things come in threes.” My left foot had just sunk into an over-watered landscaped strip, and minutes later, my right foot dropped into an unfilled posthole. Both accidents had occurred in the yard of a house I was showing to my buyer and her two kids. Unfortunately, I cursed loudly both times, which apparently did not endear me to them.

The first time I heard my Grandma say “things come in threes” was when I was in my grandparents’ basement with my Grand-dad. He was bent over, straining over a bench he was building. Grand-dad dropped his hammer on his toe, instantly straightened up, and hit his head on the bottom edge of the cabinet door he had left open. He yowled and hopped, rubbing his head with one hand and grabbing his foot with the other. Grand-dad never cursed. Instead he yelled “Curses! Yeow! Curses!”

Grandma leaned through the door at the top of the basement stairs and said, “What’s the racket?”

“I smashed my toe and banged my head!” yelled Grand-dad.

“That’s two,” said Grandma, wiping her hands on a dishtowel, “and things come in threes, you know.“

“Threes! Threes!” said Grand-dad. “Dang it all, woman, must you always say that?”

“The Lord works in strange ways, dear,” she said and shut the door.

“She’s jinxed me for sure,” Grand-dad grumbled. He went back to work on the bench, but in his haste and frustration he again dropped his hammer and it clattered on the concrete floor.

“Dang it!” he said.

I was about to ask him if that was number three. On the next swing of the hammer (harder than necessary), the head glanced off the nail and landed squarely on Grand-dad’s thumb.

“Yeow!” he screamed.

“There’s your number three!” he yelled toward the empty staircase.

My client and her two kids abruptly left the property I was showing, after my two accidents and language indiscretions.

I limped out the back gate alone. In my haste and frustration I didn’t account for the tight fit between the gate-edge and the gate-post, and when I pulled the gate shut (harder than necessary), my thumb got smashed between the two.

“Yeow!” I screamed.

I didn’t curse, but I did say out loud to an empty yard, “There’s your number three!”

Leave a comment
January 7, 2014

Animal Aura

“No more charging bulls and no more vicious dogs, please,” said my client, Janice. “I want to find a place with good vibes.”

Janice was referring to two properties I had shown her and husband Mark. At the first a neighbor’s bull charged us and at the second a neighbor’s Springer Spaniel sunk his teeth into my ankle. In both cases, Janice and Mark had loved the property we were touring, but left in horror.

“Not this time,” I said. “I checked this one out this morning; no beasts as far as the eye can see.”

We drove up the gravel driveway, and curved behind a row of maple trees. At the back of the property, hidden from the road, stood a two-story cottage with a front yard of tall flowers and a vegetable garden behind.

A little round lady emerged from the front door wearing an apron, wiping her hands on a dish-towel. She smiled and waved as we arrived.

“I’ll be out in the garden,” said the lady. “You kids just make yourselves at home.”

The place smelled like a bakery. In the kitchen a pie sat steaming on the wood-block countertop. All the rooms in the house had high ceilings, wood floors and old-time wallpaper.

“I already love this place,” said Janice.

“Funky, but nice,” said Mark.

We headed out the back door. An over-sized black cat was sleeping on the back porch rail-cap. Janice and Mark strolled out to the garden and I hung back with the cat.

“Beautiful cat,” I heard Janice say.

“Oh he just visits. He belongs to my neighbor,” said the lady.

I reached to pet the cat, and in a flash, he sunk his fangs in my thumb. I stifled a scream and hid my bloody hand in my pocket. I said nothing.

“Let’s write it up,” said Mark as they returned.

Back at the office I put the purchase contract on the table.“What is wrong with your thumb?” said Janice.

I confessed the cat attack. “I didn’t want to tell you guys that yet another vicious animal lived in the neighborhood.”

“Come to think of it,” said Mark, “that bull was aiming for you. And the dog bit you; and the cat attacked you.”

“Yeah,” said Janice. “This place has good vibes and we’re buying it. And you should adjust your aura.”

Leave a comment
January 1, 2014

Dog Day

“That was really, really, scary,” said Janice.

“We could’ve been killed,” said Mark.

Janice and Mark were referring to the recent incident wherein a massive bull had charged the three of us in a pasture behind a ranch house they were considering buying.

“The place has bad vibes. Really, really, bad vibes,” said Janice as we drove away. She pulled bits of weeds from her hair with shaking hands.

We were now back on the road, after a break to settle the adrenalin rush, on our way to see another property I thought might be a good candidate for them to buy.

I pulled off the main road into a quiet tree-shaded country cul-de-sac, and up the driveway of a Tudor-style cottage home with a brick and stucco exterior, high-pitched tile roof, and tall mullioned windows.

Inside were high ceilings, tile floors, and plush bedroom carpets. At the conclusion of our inside tour, Janice stood in the center of the Great-Room. Shafts of sunlight highlighted the wood-paneled walls and brick fireplace.

“This place has a great feel,” she said. “I really, really like it. But we better go look out back.”

Mark was already in the large back yard, surveying the nearby properties for their bull population, no doubt. Although the place was adjoined by country property to the rear, none appeared to contain any livestock, and the homes on either side were of the residential non-bull type as well.

“Nice place,” said Mark.

“Oh, look,” said Janice, “what a cute dog. And not even barking at strangers.”

A Springer-spaniel in the yard of the next-door property rested his nose on the lower bar of the split rail side fence wagging his tail and his entire hind end, watching us with droopy brown eyes.

“Springers are sweet dogs,” I said as I walked over to the fence.

The Springer’s head shot forth through the split rail fence like a rattlesnake. He sunk his teeth into my ankle and ripped my pants as I pulled my leg away.

As we drove away Janice said, “Bad vibes, bad vibes again!”

Back at the office my mentor, the wily old KDV asked, “Did you find a property for that couple who were chased by the bull?”

“I thought so,” I said, “but it turned out to be a dog.”

 

Leave a comment
Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started