Who put our home back on the market on Friday?
We did.
We did.
Who caught a guy snooping around our home Sunday afternoon?
I did.
Who convinced him he should buy our home?
We did.
And who is officially under contract with said creeper and sold our house again in two days?
US!
That's right. Done and done. Another exciting chapter hopefully closed again.
Here's how it went down.
Here's how it went down.
Sunday afternoon I spent a little time repairing some windows that came back iffy on the first inspection. Nothing that was going to make the house explode, but apparently people don't like looking at peeling paint.
It's just better to have it settled than come up, yet again, on the next inspection.
This required me to have all of the windows open as I scraped and painted, scraped and painted, every damn window.
Did I mention it was close to 100 degrees outside?
So I'm working and sweating in some pj booty shorts and a bandeau bra top.
Bayou is wrapping up whatever shenanigans he was up to and is on the way home.
As I am perched with half my body hanging outside or bedroom window, I see a guy slowly walking in our front yard.
This is fairly common as our lovely neighborhood is too cheap for sidewalks.
I am doing the proper thing by glaring the stink eye at him as he.....wait, what the fuck is he doing?
Is he getting closer to the house?
Who is this fucking guy?
That's it. TBag no likey.
I run downstairs to peer out of yet another open window as he is checking out our back yard.
"Can I help you?" I snarl at him.
"Oh hi. Sorry, my girlfriend and I are looking for a home and she wanted me to come check this one out."
"Ohhhhh really????"
I pause for a second while I mentally go through all the obvious options.
A. This guy could be a murderer and wants me to let him in so he can rape and kill me.
B. Even if option A isn't true, the house is a disaster. I just brought home groceries, it's hot as Hell in here because all the windows are open, there is paint and tools all over the place. The beds are unmade.
C. The dogs are maniacs with new people!
D. I am clearly not dressed appropriately!
Against my better judgement, my eyes light up and the charm flips on.
"Well would you like to come in and see the house?"
He agrees and I now have five seconds to clean up this joint.
I throw the dogs in the backyard.
Shut some windows.
Turn off Britney Spears.
Crank the AC..
Check to make sure all my ladybits are covered.
Open the door for him and immediately start apologizing for the mess.
"Iamsosorrywewerenotexpectinggu
g
Sheesh. Take it EASY TBag.
I start grilling this guy about his intentions like he is taking my daughter out on their first date.
Where did you come from?
What's your name?
Do you have a steady job?
Why are you looking at homes?
Are you and your girlfriend serious?
How quickly are you looking to move?
Can you fix minor repairs because this is an older house and you will need to get your hands dirty at times!?
He is pie eyed staring at this dirty, half dressed, wild haired maniac spewing questions at him and he didn't turn and run away.
Points for him.
Bayou pulls in the driveway and this guy proceeds to tell me that he works a million hours at his full time job, and him and his girlfriend are living at his parents house currently, to save money for a place. They are now in a serious relationship and want to move as fast as possible. They saw our home came back on the market and he jumped on the opportunity. He also was a carpenter for ten years so knows how to fix things.
Swoon.
THIS is our guy.
Bayou walks in the front door and I give him the rundown because I am still half dressed standing next to a man that Bayou doesn't know.
I ask him to show the stranger the basement and backyard.
They talk about finances.
15 minutes later we have verbally agreed to the other buyers price and he is on the phone with both his realtor and girlfriend to set up a formal walkthrough the next morning.
We now have to sell this place to her.
The price is right. The guy loves the space and location.
But is it pretty enough for her? She probably rules the roost.
I know this because that's just how it goes, so here I am, deep cleaning the house again, OCD organizing the cabinets, turning all the labels forward, stacking everything nicely.
We walk the dogs down the street to our neighbors porch and wait.
Wait for the judging.
Wait for the nitpicking.
She has to like it, right?
They are living with his parents, for cripes sakes!
And then we catch a glimpse of her and Bayou and I look at each and gulp.
She is......bigger.
Now, don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with that, flaunt what you got!
But it could majorly impact this home sale.
Our stairs are rather narrow. Like, so old and narrow, we have a hard time going up and down with anything in our hands, so this could be an issue.
Shit.
They leave.
We panic.
Two hours later, we get a call from our realtor. Their realtor is trying to hardball us and gives us an offer that we didn't agree to. It's $10k lower than list price.
I tell our realtor what we agreed to with his guy, and that's it.
He either wants it or not.
No more negotiating.
Five minutes later. They accept.
We are ecstatic!!
We spent the rest of our evening drinking and dancing like psyho gypsies with our dogs in the backyard.
I managed to lose a shoe in the process, but we have a GREAT feeling about this guy and this sale.
And you know what?
Two weeks until our move!
TBag. Out.
