91 Seconds Later

They closed on their home in January of 2013 but for the past two hours they have been renting space in my head. On that day in January, three days before their home actually closed, the mother of the young couple was standing in front of me screeching, "Don't do me any favors!" I was holding a prepossession agreement--one of the two prepossessions I have done in my career. And even though this couple's worldly goods were in the U-haul that Friday and I had worked extra hard to convince the seller not to rightfully cancel the contract, take their earnest money and to please give this young couple just a little more time, which really turned into a month of begging the seller's indulgence, all goodwill was thrown out the window as this mother gave me a what-for. She called me all sorts of ugly, horrible names as I tried like hell to help her daughter buy a home they probably shouldn't have bought.

When I replay this scenario in my head once in a while, I tear up the prepossession, leaving them to sleep in the U-haul and walk away. But in real life they signed the prepossession agreement and three days later they closed on their home. The mother of this couple is still one of the most vial humans I have ever met. Ever. She is in the top three of horrible real estate clients I have ever had.  (Though she wasn't the client, her daughter was, but Mama controlled everything. Everything.)

Today I got an e-mail from the couple, "Hey, we are selling our home and you aren't the agent. Have a great day."

For the life of me, I can't figure out why they bothered to reach out at all. It is like the bratty preteen girl who tells all the other girls she is having a party but they aren't invited. At that point, would they even want to be invited? Thinking back about Mama, I am pretty sure I didn't want to be invited anyway. But why bother contacting me at all years later? What purpose does it serve? I don't go to a new doctor and call the old one saying, "Hey! Dr. Miller will now give me my flu shot. Have a nice day."

Tony Robbins says when something like this happens, give it 90 seconds and move on. After 1 hour,  58 minutes and 30 seconds after I started stewing, I wrote them back, congratulating them on growing out of their home and being ready for their next adventure. I wished them well. Then after unburdening my soul, I cheerfully opted to go on with my life.