A couple of weeks ago, we drove by an open house that had been on the market for quite a long time. The first time we came across this particular place, it had been for sale by owner, and the owner happened to be in the yard. I pulled up and asked as politely and unobtrusively as I could how much he was looking to sell it for. He asked me what I wanted to pay. Trying not to press him, I asked him for at least a ballpark figure of what he was looking for. He then actually quoted me “a million dollars”. Because I know the market in my area pretty well, I laughed and drove off, assuming that he either wasn’t really serious about selling or was completely out of his mind.

Months later, when the house hadn’t sold, the guy partnered with a broker to try for $700k, which was just about as ridiculous as asking a million. When I made an appointment to actually see the inside of the house during that period, I found the guy arguing with my broker in the street when I drove up. Because my broker is a sweetheart, it was at that point that I realized that the guy wasn’t crazy. This guy was of the classification “Assholis Majoris”.

As we went through, our suspicions of the asking price being overly inflated for a three bedroom, one bath bungalow were confirmed. We politely held back our chuckles and shared wide-eyed expressions as the seller walked us through pointing out the “features” of the house. When we saw that the seller had pretty much torn apart the kitchen in a failed renovation attempt, he actually told us, very matter-of-factly, “The price is $700 now. You want me to fix all this, the price is going up.”

We did all we could to be polite, but all three of us actually all burst out laughing.

Since then, the house has been sitting on the market and slowly dropping in price. We hadn’t seen it months, and because it was under a new broker, we figured we’d drop in and refresh our memory. When we pulled up, we saw the seller standing on the front porch. It was then that we realized that the guy had merely partnered with a broker and was still trying to sell the house himself. I can tell you that I had to actually spend time convincing #1GF! that going into the house would be worth dealing with its biggest flaw again. She agreed on the condition that we wait for another couple to walk in and distract the seller.

Shortly, another couple caught the seller’s attention, leaving us free to look at the house unmolested. We actually entered the house, looked at the whole thing, and left without the guy even knowing that we were there. Like suburban ninjas, we would just listen for his fat, blathering mouth and quietly move opposite it. And like every good ninja, #1GF! even left a mysterious calling card by taking the time to sign the guest book as “Debbie Doobey” before we made our exit.

While our tactics made what would’ve been a potentially bad experience a little more fun, I did find it a little amazing that a couple of non-criminal types could enter and exit a small house in the middle of the day unseen. When I consider that we weren’t trying all that hard to be stealthy, yet three other people roaming the house had no idea that we were there, I’m seriously considering giving up my technology lifestyle in favor of an investment in smoke bombs and black suits, because how hard could being a ninja be?

Posted in #1GF!, Work