Monday, July 25, 2011

Hand shakes and high hopes

After I was revived, he wanted to look around. With no notice. Tell me. How many of you would be okay with showing your house RIGHT NOW.

But I had to be. I didn't want to do anything that might mean he'd lose interest. So, apologizing every step of the way for the toys and dog hair the blind old man was stumbling over, we looked around our house.

And then he left, and we waited.

We waited for almost a week, before he brought his son back over to look, and then a few more days before he appeared on our doorstep to negotiate. I lowballed him, made my husband mad, and had a signed contract that evening, finally. Possibly, that was the longest week of my life, waiting for him to decide. Longer, maybe than the week before Johnny was born. For real, people. I had to stay fairly liquified in order to not think obsessive thoughts every waking moment.

But we arrived at a price and I wrote the check for the earnest money and Joe The Buyer signed it because he's blind, and I called the title company and my realtor aunty and got some advice on how to proceed and on our way we were. Turns out, buying and selling houses for sale by owner? Not that hard. If you have a buyer, that is. A buyer that came to you unsolicited. And if you buy a house for sale by owner from a guy who happens to flip houses as a side gig, because he kinda knows a few folks and some house buying ropes. And if one of your BFF's is your mortgage banker and you know, you're half nuts. Like we are.

But seriously, doing both deals sans realtor? People we saved about fifteen large. Fifteen THOUSAND dollars. So what it cost in footwork on my part and a little bit of extra stress, uhm yeah. Made up for it in COLD HARD CASH.

So the minute - and I do mean MINUTE - I had a signed contract and earnest money from Joe, our buyer, I emailed and called and texted and vibed our seller to tell him we were ready to make and offer and TELL ME YOU DID NOT SELL THAT HOUSE YET.

And, the heavens opened, and he still had the house, and we signed a contract with him a couple of days later. Or, we agreed on a price, shook his hand, and wrote a check for a meager amount of earnest money. Because that's how these deals apparently work.

And then we drove around the new neighborhood, planning Johnny's entire future and ours, and then we had margaritas. I might have cried a little.


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