Incompetence

I waited all morning for my closing packet Wednesday. By the way, "closing packet" is a nice way of saying commission check and a few other pieces of paper, all of which are important. However, it was the commission check I really wanted.

Around 2 p.m. I called the escrow company who was to messenger over my closing packet that morning. I was informed they delivered my paperwork at 10:32 a.m. and I should check with someone in my office. When I explained "my office" is the room in my basement she didn't seem too deterred. Instead, she blamed me for giving her the wrong address. Because, of course I would do that.

It turns out the escrow company sent the closing packet to some random business two miles away from my basement. The random business does not have my name, company name or my personal name, which did not seem to deter the courier. Nobody at the random business bothered to tell him he was at the wrong place. Instead, they took the envelope and just put it aside, assuming someone would figure something out.

What seems to perplex me is that the escrow company blamed me for the mishap. The escrow manager, when I escalated this mess (before we figured out where my check was), said, "Oops. I guess you should have given the correct address." When I assured her that not only was I confident I knew my address and also it was clearly printed on my letterhead, which was sitting on her desk at that very moment, she didn't seem phased. In fact, nobody over there was the least bit bothered they sent my check to perfect strangers.

This had a happy ending for me. I have my check. In the spirit of Opening Day Baseball and Easter, I am practicing letting go today, I am going to forgive the escrow company. But I am sure going to tell every real estate agent I know which company did this so they can decide if they want to take a chance their commission check might go to the wrong office.

It's About Time

The only snakes I like play baseball for 164 games a year. On occasion they play a few extra if they have done well enough to hit the playoffs. As a well-seasoned Diamondbacks fan, I don't expect playoffs. I am just happy to see baseball.

And after a painfully long off-season, baseball starts today! Unfortunately I have plans tonight (Yes, plans big enough to take me away from baseball. Who knew?). So I will be hearing about the game afterwards. But still! Hopefully I can catch most of the 163 games the snakes have left.

Closed!

I had this listing for about a year and a half--532 days, to be exact. The neighbors were ugly. They tried to sabotage the seller and the sale. They said unkind things to me. They wrote me nasty e-mails. I can only imagine what they said to my seller. In the end, my client ended up taking a low-ball offer just to get rid of the place, which meant the neighbor's values will take a (temporary) hit. Too bad for them.

But this home is no longer my listing! I got the call around 1:35 yesterday afternoon. My client thanked me for not quitting.

I have been dancing ever since.

Well, At Least The Garage Hasn't Caught Fire

My New Logo

We were supposed to close today on The Home That Will Never Sell(TM).

Except, now the fan motor has gone out on the other air conditioner. I called my seller to break the news. After she asked how much extra this was going to cost her (I have no idea), she said, "Let's never sell this house again." Fine by me. But I wouldn't mind selling it this first time.

Breaking Out the Good Stuff

Don't Judge Me

The home that will never sell(TM) is scheduled to close tomorrow. If we all get that far.

Today, the buyers and their agent walked through the home--as they are allowed to, per the contract--only to find out the air conditioner flipped out this past weekend and decided to go on strike.

My sellers are saying the entire scenario is questionable (the word they used was "hinkey"). The buyers are saying sabotage and SEE THE AC'S REALLY DIDN'T WORK ALL ALONG!!! Which, isn't true. The buyer's agent is asking if I have amaretto and if I am willing to share.

I do and I am not.

This is not the worst drama I have had right before closing. On the very first listing I ever got, the garage caught fire five days before closing. That is my benchmark for true closing drama. So, an air conditioner going rogue isn't the end of the world.

Of course, the trick is who is going to pay for this repair. The answer is simple: the seller owns the home. The seller agreed to have the home in the same condition as the day the contract was first accepted. The home is not in that condition. The repair is somewhat simple: a $400 part that someone needs to order and pay for. Unfortunately, my sellers really didn't agree with this assessment and guess who the messenger of this news happens to be? My clients are also wondering why I am not exactly on their side on this one. I am on their side. But they agreed to this in the purchase contract, whether I am on their side or not. 

Additionally, the sellers are not trusting the buyer's air conditioning guy. But of course, the seller's AC guy is apparently on vacation and is backpacking through Antarctica as we speak and there is no word from the carrier pigeon that was sent with this unfortunate news. And, in case the other agent and I haven't mentioned this 437 times to our clients: WE ARE SCHEDULED TO CLOSE TOMORROW.

In the end, as it stands now, my sellers are going to not hold up closing, avoiding potential ugliness and just use the buyer's AC guy. They will begrudgingly pay for the repair (which they would have had to pay for even if this house wasn't in escrow--because it is broken). And hopefully, when all is said and done, this house will be the home that will sell(TM).

Bad MLS* Photos (The Touche' Edition)

*This is my listing. It is not on the MLS because my client does not want it on the MLS. I am looking for an investor so the tenants can stay. The tenants let me in for about 15 minutes on Saturday to take pictures and then summarily kicked me out. This is what I got. So these pictures, while not on MLS, are on other social media platforms. It was the best I could do under the circumstances.

Meanwhile, the owner, who lives out of state, was slightly mortified to see what was going on with her home. As a former landlord, I shared her pain. The fact is, it is a cute home and if some day this property does go on the MLS the tenant will be gone, the place will be clean and there will be professional photos taken. It will also be sold for about $20k more than what she is currently asking.

Looking for a great investment home in the East Valley? 

Large lot with working sprinkler system? 

Covered patio for easy entertaining. 

Well maintained home

Long-term tenants who feel at home and wish to stay. 

This home has lots of great features such as cozy family room with invisible fireplace 

Kitchen with island and breakfast nook

Formal Living Room

Indoor Laundry

Newer Carpet

And plenty more! 

$&*^%(! Huggers

Last Friday, Mrs. Hufflepuff invited me to some benefit breakfast her brokerage was sponsoring. It was kind of cool to be included but I know I would have hated these kinds of mandatory events as a commission only salesperson if I had hung my license with her brokerage. Not that she could have dictated this to be mandatory, but given every one of her agents were there helping out, it told me plenty about the culture of that company.

Now then, just a word about the benefit breakfast: foster parents don't get the recognition they deserve. I am glad there was some love spread around to those amazing foster parents last Friday.

Back to the breakfast. One of the big takeaways Jane has gotten from working with Mrs. Hufflepuff is being more involved in the community in a big way. It has been a wonderful transformation for Jane. She goes to cocktail parties now, wins silent auctions and is becoming extremely involved in several charities. Jane is blossoming in her role as an agent and a mover and shaker within her sphere of influence. I am so glad. I have never seen Jane so happy.

However, for those of you who aren't aware of this particular fact: I am shy to the point of anxious in a crowd of three or more. There are those (Marty) who claim it is a mental illness. There are others (me) who think it is a lifestyle. Take your pick. Last Friday, at the benefit breakfast, I was put to work passing out stickers to participants--why these stickers couldn't just be laid out at the place settings at the tables instead is lost on me--but that was a Mrs. Hufflepuff rule and she invited me. It required me to say hello to everyone who walked in the door. I am pleased to say, I didn't curl into a ball and cower in the corner. At least right then.

Jane also mandated, as a way to "help" me with that whole social anxiety thing, that I was to hug five people at this benefit breakfast.

"Why would I hug strangers?" I asked her.

"They wouldn't be strangers after you hugged them."

"Do you think the mayor would mind I went over and hugged him?" I asked, motioning over to his table.

"Go for it." She replied.

I didn't.

Which brings up something that totally bugs me. Why do people who announce they are "huggers" think just by declaring so it gives them carte blanche to violate my boundaries? This is a huge pet peeve of mine. Don't I get a say in who touches me?

After I shot daggers through my eyes at Jane, she backed off and changed my homework to, I was to shake hands with five people instead. I managed four.

After the breakfast was over (it was a pretty cool event) I walked over to Mrs. Hufflepuff and thanked her for inviting me. "I am so glad you came!" She replied. And then without warning, she hugged me.

The Last Two Weeks in a Nutshell

The No Button. A must have for any real estate brokerage. 

My listing-that-would-never-sell(TM) finally got an outrageously low offer on it. My sellers countered to something where they would still loose money but at least get rid of the neighbors and this house. However, I made it perfectly clear the sellers will not make any repairs and don't ask for anything. The buyers agreed and a contract was born.

The home in question, and all of its internal parts, are TWO YEARS OLD. This is important because it makes the buyer's request so much more obnoxious.

You see, the buyer hired a home inspector, like any good buyer should do. The home inspector, who apparently knows little about home inspecting, told the buyers the air conditioners are not functioning. Of course the day the inspector was there, it was about 55 degrees. So, no, they wouldn't function. But the buyers didn't pay me for this nugget.

The buyers in turn brought in consultants to find out how much new air conditioners cost. None of the consultants actually checked to see if the air conditioners functioned. Why would they when they could sell these folks new air conditioning units? Instead, they just gave the buyers quotes on a new HVAC system. One quote was actually $15,000 per air conditioner (there are two of them).

"Was this a solid gold air conditioner?" I asked the buyer's agent.

She had no reply. Nor did the buyers want to bring in an HVAC expert. Also, they didn't "trust" the sellers to bring in an HVAC expert. But, they were willing to "split the cost" of a new HVAC system with my sellers. And they had the nerve to ask for a $15,000 reduction on the already low-ball price of a home they were getting. In fact, the price of this home is so low that there is no appraisal, because everyone can see they are buying it for thousands, upon thousands under market.

My seller did what I thought she should do under the circumstances: she said "No! Take it or leave it." She wasn't budging. I explained this again to the agent and said, "Nice working with you. Perhaps next time." I also suggested the home inspector had screwed up this deal royally. Because he did. She agreed.

But the other agent managed to get the buyers on track. She asked if the sellers would pay $6,700 for the buyer's closing costs for their trouble. Of course not! I replied. So, the buyer's agent is now paying $4,000 out of her own pocket to keep this transaction alive. She then asked if the sellers would pay $2,500, just a little something to make the buyers fell like they weren't getting ripped off (they aren't). That started a whirlwind set of text messages between her and me on what, "getting ripped off meant." For the record, this sales agent is awesome. She is doing her job.

However, I get it. The buyers feel they need to have a win here. After all, the home inspector said the ACs don't operate properly, which could be farthest from the truth. Anyway, I asked my seller if they would contribute the $2,500 to make the sale work out. They said yes and a lot of other ugly things I was already thinking. In the end, I told the agent they would only pay $1,500. The buyers took it.

With any luck, we close next week.

Erasing the Worriers

Mrs. Worrier did not move in with Mr. Worrier. Nor did she allow her children to move in. In fact, she has taken the children and refuses to say where or let her children talk to their father. Also, she is now claiming he has assaulted her.

Whatever. I am glad I am done.

The whole thing disgusts me.

A Residential Agent Having Commercial Adventures

First, let me preface this with telling you what my 80 year old father told me last night: commercial real estate and residential real estate aren't the same thing. And more to his point, I am not qualified. He didn't tell me what I wasn't qualified to do, but I am guessing, knowing him, he meant both residential and commercial. But for the sake of argument, let's go with I'm not qualified to sell commercial real estate. Which, by the way, I agree with him. I know human anatomy too, but I don't feel qualified to conduct open heart surgery. So, yep, Dad may be right.

Anyway, my client wants to buy a church. That means she is looking for a commercial building in her price range and in a sketchy part of Phoenix where she and her ministry can take place. She has been down this road before, with me telling her she wants to use my colleague, Bill. Bill is a rock star commercial real estate agent. My client doesn't agree, but fortunately, she trusts me enough that she is willing to give him a second chance if I won't touch the deal. As part of this process, however, I am tagging along to run interference and to learn a thing or two when we look at commercial buildings, which we did yesterday.

Potential Church Building 1: Built in 1945, brick and stucco'ed. No windows, but bars over the doors.

Located off of South 19th Avenue and Scaryville, I had to park quite a distance away when I showed up yesterday. Though I know very little about commercial buildings, I am pretty sure a church needs parking. Anyway, I half-expected my car to be gone when this appointment was over (spoiler: it was still there).

The building in question was being used for three purposes. First, there was an auto body repair shop occupying the back of the space. Second there was some sort of social/gathering room that used up one-third of this building. There was a stage, guitars and a drum. There was blue shag carpet on the floor. There was 1970s wood panel on the walls, which the owner assures us is "up to code," but I am pretty sure the City of Phoenix has rules about electrical wires not being bound by duct tape against the wood paneling and perhaps the wood studs should actually go all the way to the ceiling. There were two bathrooms, a small storage space and a nook where a microwave and a refrigerator stood.

The last space was padlocked about six times and the owner had to make a special trip somewhere to retrieve the key. She came back and proudly opened up the room (which was the other side of the "built to code" wall). The room in question was about the size of a two car garage. It had one AC vent. The residential real estate agent in me asked nobody in particular, "How old is the AC?" Bill muttered in my ear, "Let's assume it is original." But, that wasn't the interesting part. The entire space was full of boxes, upon boxes of merchandise. Now, in case you may work for the AZ Attorney General's office, I am sure it was all legal and taxes had been rightfully paid. But, if you are looking for a good deal on all sorts of random items from children's' toys to Christmas trees to pleather purses, it was probably in here. And lots of it.

Potential Church Building 2: A tin warehouse, manufactured probably in the Carter Administration and never maintained. It is located off of Central Avenue and also has no parking. I wasn't worried about my car at this location. I was worried about my safety. In fact, when we were done, I asked Bill to walk me back to my car because the six scary dudes were standing about three feet away from it. Bill said, "No problem, you will be my shield if things get dicey." I hope he was joking (spoiler: we were fine, or at least I was).

This big warehouse is shaped like a barn. Put about six two-car garages together and you would probably have a pretty good estimation of size. Bill commented as he let us in, "The owner said the electricity is not on." That was a big of an understatement because it was pretty obvious there was no wiring anywhere to be found. The only light that was coming in was from one skylight, situated in the middle of the building and the numerous bullet holes that riddled the walls. There was a room designated as a bathroom, but it was missing a potty. There was also a small office with a portable wall AC strategically placed on some concrete blocks.

But that's not the best part! Oh no! This space, apparently, had been some sort of bird (for the sake of argument) "sanctuary." There were chicken/pigeon/who knows what else feathers and byproduct everywhere! EVERYWHERE! It may have been suggested that one could cover the bottom of the floor with soil, add a few lights and use the place as a grow-house with all that fertile bird poop. Voila! Income-property.

Bill's (and mine) client is still looking around. They may want to raise their price because I am thinking these may not be what they are looking for. But what do I know? I am a residential agent.

No Worries

Mr. Worrier sent me a text today. "We got the house!"

After I congratulated him, I asked if there was anything I could do to help. He replied, "Will you tell Mrs. Worrier?" I offered to send a carrier pigeon. Otherwise, he is on his own with that one.

A Worried Update

I got a text message from Mrs. Worrier on Tuesday. It said to send her everything out there that meets her criteria. Her husband was threatening to take the kids because he was sick of living in hotels.

I sent her the ONE home that came up. Then, I also asked if she might want to relax her standards a bit and I would be happy to send her everything else available. I got no response. In fact, I still haven't heard from her.

Meanwhile, Mr. Worrier contacted me. He said send him everything. He stated he will be renting a home for him and his children this week. Mrs. Worrier can come if she wants, but he was done with this. Oh, by the way, there was no need to consult Mrs. Worrier any further about housing.

Yesterday, Mr. Worrier and I looked at four homes. Two of them, were with a property management company who throws me a lot of business. However, these two homes aren't on the multiple listing service, so I won't get paid. They were his two favorites. Of course. I just asked him to use my name when he filled out the application. I want the credit, even if it just means stockpiling treasures in Heaven. Mr. Worrier filled out an application for a third home as well. He is a back-up application if one of the first two don't work out. So essentially, in the time they had been homeless, Mr. Worrier put in more applications in one day than they had in the four months Mrs. Worrier was half-looking.

Mr. Worrier looks like he has been put through the ringer. His eyes even moistened a little as he shared his story and his pain. He wants to keep his marriage together. He wants to give his children a good life. He wants Mrs. Worrier to seek help. She is refusing, saying it is everyone else's fault. She is a victim of her circumstances and everyone else's poor choices. I want her to get help too.

He told me--and after getting to know her I believe it--she said if he gets a home without her she will spend all his money and sabotage the situation. She will eat out all the time (they have been doing this anyway, because they are living in hotels). She will run up more bills. There will be hell to pay. He told me this with a resigned voice, sharing that once he has a lease signed, he is changing his bank accounts and turning off his credit cards. All of this broke my heart. My eyes may have moistened too.

I am pleased to hear he took steps. Unbeknownst to Mrs. Worrier, he has made arrangements and gotten a scholarship for his oldest three to start Catholic school as soon as he has an address. With all the chaos, his children have been merely existing. His in-laws--Mrs. Worrier's parents--have offered to watch the youngest two, cosign for a place (if necessary) and loan him the deposit money. His own father said he will make the drive from the city he lives in, which is 150 miles away, every Thursday and stay all weekend so Mr. Worrier can work his Uber driving job on the weekends. All of this breaks my heart. It breaks his heart too. This is not what a husband and father want. I get that.

Hopefully Mrs. Worrier will get help. Hopefully.

Hiring a Puppet Master

I have a client who wants a commercial building. Last time we were in this situation, I referred her to a friend of mine who handles such things. However, nothing came of the sale and they parted ways. The client then hired some snake oil salesman, who helped her find a residential home--something she didn't really want, but now has. It does my ego good when she tells me working with me has been nothing of the nightmare of working with snake oil guy.

But now she wants to buy a commercial building. I still know enough about commercial real estate to be a danger to both of us. So, I have a call into my friend, the commercial agent. I need his help. I cannot do this alone. I am not sure he is going to want to dip his big toe back in with my client. (Frankly, I am not sure my client wants to work with him.) But I am hoping I can convince him to work with me--just be the puppet master. Tell me what to do. I can take direction pretty well. All he has to do is lead me in the right direction. That said, I am also hoping just splitting the (potential) commission with him 50/50 will be enough for his mentorship.

Hopefully he will say yes. I don't have a plan B if he says no.

Home $weet Home

So I just got a text from Mrs. Worrier. It said,

"Will you please settle this with Mr. Worrier. Did you say the average rental home price is $2,100 or $2,200. Thanks."

Oh... I am not stepping into that trap. What exactly is the "average" house? The average house for me while I was searching in a different state for a possible move was about 1,500 square feet. But, we could have taken more or less. The average house size for Mrs. Worrier is 3,000 square feet. Why? I don't know. Right now they are living in a motel room which is much smaller than 3,000 square feet.

My response was: "What size home? What part of the Valley?" The true answer is rents over the area she is looking in are approximately $0.90 a square foot. I didn't tell her so.

The sadness really is she and her husband are having some sort of quibble over $100 and it has gotten so stressful she felt she needed to get someone else involved. I feel so sad for her children. Hopefully she will cave soon and they will find a property they can afford.

March Has Come in Like a Lion

It has been an interesting week around these parts. Marty Sunshine interviewed, twice, for a job out of state. They wanted to fly him out, but Marty declined after a bit of back and forth. The job was a very close, but just not enough, fit for us to uproot our lives.

The entire experience was a bit surreal. Marty has interviewed before and been offered jobs before. This experience though was different. Everything was more intense, as we tried to figure out if this was the right time in our lives to do this. The usual topics, money, relocation, benefits were considered. But surprisingly, it was the day to day questions which I found unnerving. I didn't realize until it was over, that I had walked around with my jaw tight for the past several days. Minor issues, came into play as we threw everything we had on to the pros and cons list. We are six months out of a bankruptcy, just started a real estate brokerage, both of us have 80+ year old fathers, Polly is almost 18 and how does that play into a move? What do we do with the cat? Can he travel on an airplane or by car without loosing his mind (Not really) or is it better for him to be rejected, once again by another owner--us--, and have another new family (that just sounds cruel)? 

In the mean-time, because I was as distracted by this, the only significant activity I managed this week was to google everything I could about the area. I now know the home school laws, housing prices and tons more moderately significant facts about the area. Incidentally, in case it comes up in idle conversation, this particular metro area of 600,000 has more than 20 martial arts studios.

Of course, this means very little got done on the real estate front. Actually, the only "real estate" that ended up happening was me asking a couple of agent friends to figure out what I could sell my home for. Jane, bless her, gave me a $134,000 range (we need to work on her pricing skills). But to be fair, my home is custom built and not a tract home, which is significantly harder to price. Ronnie and everyone's frenemy, Zillow, were pretty much in sync with what I was figuring, provided I did a couple of home repairs. If I didn't do anything I could subtract $20,000 from the price--which might have been what happened--though my neighbors would have been livid that I gave my home away. Of course Zillow (which has a bunch of incorrect data about my home), does not account for home repairs, so some buyer seeing my home for sale at an unreasonably low price would have (hopefully) jumped. But now they can just wait.

At any rate, Marty and I need to regroup on his job search. I had initially encouraged him to start looking because he is ready to move on from where he has been for the last 20+ years. I am ready for him to move on too. But I am thinking another year in our current location might be in order if Marty can stand his job just a little bit longer.