Good news, everyone!
You can say that in Professor Farnsworth's voice in your head.
We had a showing of the apartment yesterday, and we got an offer! WE GOT AN OFFER!!!!
First off, we reduced the price by $10,000 because we were too high for the comps in the area, and also because we had a showing in which we got bitchy feedback where the people were asked if they wanted to live here and their response was "No, not at all!" because the price was too high. Meh.
On June 3 we made the arrangements to drop the price. This past Friday we got a call about a showing for this coming Tuesday. I was fine with that because it would give us time to clean as I had the day off Saturday. Then we got a different call Friday around 4 p.m. asking for a different showing Saturday at 11 a.m.!
This put a wrench in my girlfriend's plans for us to attend her cousin's 40th birthday party out on Long Island. But we needed to clean and get the place up to par. Good thing, because it took most of Friday night and we continued the next morning with the little staging details.
We knew we wouldn't be able to shower and dress in addition to getting everything set up (since I didn't want to wake up at like 5 a.m.) so we were sweaty in our pajamas (well, T-shirts and shorts) when the potential buyer's Realtor showed up at *exactly* 11 a.m. In my experience thus far, they are never on time. This guy was. Oy.
We were just about to walk out the door when he knocked, and luckily all it took was grabbing purses and flip-flops to get out of here. Braless. Also, my legs are super hairy. In case you wanted to know the state we were in.
We decided to sit in the car in the shade at McDonald's and have an early leisurely lunch, because also in my experience the showings never end on time either. Finally we came back around 1 p.m. and sat and relaxed.
Since we had dinner plans at night, by 4 p.m. my girlfriend was about to jump in the shower when the doorbell rang. The Realtor had returned and told us his client wanted to make an offer, and that he wanted his girlfriend to see the place. And they were on their way up. In 10 minutes.
Thankfully we hadn't completely un-staged everything yet, and we raced around getting things neatened again. This time we bumped into the potential buyer in our way out the door. Still braless. Still in our pajamas. My legs are still hairy in this scenario.
Here in our apartment building there's some benches under the trees in the backyard, so we sat out there to wait. Eventually the Realtor came out to show his client the backyard while we held up the Saturday paper over our floppity boobs and tried to talk up the area. Such as it is.
We had yet to hear from our Realtor, so we went on with our dinner plans and she finally called us back around 10 p.m. The potential buyer offered $5000 under ask, which we anticipated. That was also the number our Realtor initially wanted us to drop it to, and I told my girlfriend no because of exactly this situation. No one is paying asking price in this market. Better to stay a little high and be in a good mindset when the buyer offers low.
We accepted the offer, but of course there are financial things and income things and mortgage things that all have to be worked out. The guy still also has to be approved by the board. But he's older -- like in his early 60s -- which in my mind gives us la eg up with the board over a young guy or even a young couple or a couple with a child. The old cranks on the board want someone equally as quiet as them.
We are being cautiously optimistic at the moment, and saying our Novena to St. Joseph, who I buried in the dirt near the sidewalk out in front of the building. If you haven't heard about the practice of burying a small plastic statue of St. Joseph upside-down facing the house you want to sell, do a little Googling. We buried him the night before the showing. I don't think it's a coincidence.
There you have it! More to come eventually.
Work is money, and I'm toughing it out. I get the feeling I am being groomed to become the next Photo person in the Photo department of National Pharmacy Chain Store, which troubles my conscience. I simply want to be a drone and quit when we need to move. Now they want to give me responsibility and I don't want to let people down. Ugh.
We had a showing of the apartment yesterday, and we got an offer! WE GOT AN OFFER!!!!
First off, we reduced the price by $10,000 because we were too high for the comps in the area, and also because we had a showing in which we got bitchy feedback where the people were asked if they wanted to live here and their response was "No, not at all!" because the price was too high. Meh.
On June 3 we made the arrangements to drop the price. This past Friday we got a call about a showing for this coming Tuesday. I was fine with that because it would give us time to clean as I had the day off Saturday. Then we got a different call Friday around 4 p.m. asking for a different showing Saturday at 11 a.m.!
This put a wrench in my girlfriend's plans for us to attend her cousin's 40th birthday party out on Long Island. But we needed to clean and get the place up to par. Good thing, because it took most of Friday night and we continued the next morning with the little staging details.
We knew we wouldn't be able to shower and dress in addition to getting everything set up (since I didn't want to wake up at like 5 a.m.) so we were sweaty in our pajamas (well, T-shirts and shorts) when the potential buyer's Realtor showed up at *exactly* 11 a.m. In my experience thus far, they are never on time. This guy was. Oy.
We were just about to walk out the door when he knocked, and luckily all it took was grabbing purses and flip-flops to get out of here. Braless. Also, my legs are super hairy. In case you wanted to know the state we were in.
We decided to sit in the car in the shade at McDonald's and have an early leisurely lunch, because also in my experience the showings never end on time either. Finally we came back around 1 p.m. and sat and relaxed.
Since we had dinner plans at night, by 4 p.m. my girlfriend was about to jump in the shower when the doorbell rang. The Realtor had returned and told us his client wanted to make an offer, and that he wanted his girlfriend to see the place. And they were on their way up. In 10 minutes.
Thankfully we hadn't completely un-staged everything yet, and we raced around getting things neatened again. This time we bumped into the potential buyer in our way out the door. Still braless. Still in our pajamas. My legs are still hairy in this scenario.
Here in our apartment building there's some benches under the trees in the backyard, so we sat out there to wait. Eventually the Realtor came out to show his client the backyard while we held up the Saturday paper over our floppity boobs and tried to talk up the area. Such as it is.
We had yet to hear from our Realtor, so we went on with our dinner plans and she finally called us back around 10 p.m. The potential buyer offered $5000 under ask, which we anticipated. That was also the number our Realtor initially wanted us to drop it to, and I told my girlfriend no because of exactly this situation. No one is paying asking price in this market. Better to stay a little high and be in a good mindset when the buyer offers low.
We accepted the offer, but of course there are financial things and income things and mortgage things that all have to be worked out. The guy still also has to be approved by the board. But he's older -- like in his early 60s -- which in my mind gives us la eg up with the board over a young guy or even a young couple or a couple with a child. The old cranks on the board want someone equally as quiet as them.
We are being cautiously optimistic at the moment, and saying our Novena to St. Joseph, who I buried in the dirt near the sidewalk out in front of the building. If you haven't heard about the practice of burying a small plastic statue of St. Joseph upside-down facing the house you want to sell, do a little Googling. We buried him the night before the showing. I don't think it's a coincidence.
There you have it! More to come eventually.
Work is money, and I'm toughing it out. I get the feeling I am being groomed to become the next Photo person in the Photo department of National Pharmacy Chain Store, which troubles my conscience. I simply want to be a drone and quit when we need to move. Now they want to give me responsibility and I don't want to let people down. Ugh.