Thursday, December 02, 2004

brutal (hazards of cold calling)

Late this afternoon the phone rang. It was a real estate agent, asking about our expired listing.

In the summer of 2003, we listed our house after finding the perfect lot and perfect floor-plan in a new subdevelopment just a few miles south of where we are now. The kids could stay in the same school and the commute would be just about the same. DH's commute to work would actually be shorter. The house had a different but just as nice configuration, with each kid getting his or her own room and a huge play room, besides. We went for all the bells and whistles, too: pool, deck, new appliances... rates were low, and we could afford it, if we could sell this place for what we were asking for.

Well, we had it listed for 4 months and never got an offer. I think we probably under-priced ourselves, but there were other factors at work, too. There was a glut of property in the area, including all the new building in the development we had selected, and several other new developments around it.

After 4 months we had the choice of going ahead with our new building, but our deposit became non-refundable and we'd have to start ponying up cash for every new phase of the build; we decided it was just too risky, and de-listed. We took another look at our house and decided that it suits us very well indeed, and made some much smaller investments in home improvements and so far are quite content here.

Within a month of de-listing, I found out I would need surgery (hysterectomy), and since then, it has been a pretty much a non-stop medical nightmare for me. So I'm glad we didn't move. Just this week we found out that, in addition to the shopping center about 3/4 of a mile away that we knew about when we made the offer on the new property, Vestar is also putting up a Super Wal-Mart, open 24/7, just across the street from what would have been our development. IOW, we dodged a bullet.

After we listed the house, I got a little statue of St. Joseph. This is a kind of a superstition thing among Catholics; some people bury the statue, some say upside down, some say facing the street... it's all quite silly. Anyway: I put St. Joseph in the kitchen, and I would ask for his intercession with the house selling/moving situation -- Please, help us to come to whatever the right decision is for us... I never prayed that we would sell the house, or that we could move to the new one, or for anything specific, just that what was best for us would be the outcome. That prayer was manifestly answered.

So, back to this afternoon: the RE agent was pleasant enough, and said she had seen our expired listing...
Agent: Have you thought about re-listing, now that it's a seller's market in your area?
Me: No.
Agent: You know, folks in your neighborhood are seeing substantial increases in property value, and there really are very few properties available now...
Me: Yes, I know, we do keep an eye on the market, but no.
Agent: So you don't think you would consider...
Me: Well. No. (pause) I was diagnosed with cancer in October. We're not going anywhere.

So then of course the poor agent was all flummoxed, she completely understood why we're not in the market and of course I have to do everything I can to take care of myself. She wished me well and rang off as quickly as she could.

I felt the tiniest flicker of guilt, then quickly dismissed it. What I said to the agent was true. Maybe if I didn't have cancer, we would be amenable to looking around again. Rates are still low, and DH's job security is higher than ever, and he's getting a raise in January, his first in 3 years. We're actually, technically, in better shape now to buy than we were a year and a half ago. Except we're not, because I have to deal with this cancer situation.

I still feel like I used a nuclear bomb to kill a mosquito: effective, but necessary? No, not necessary, but still truthful, and perhaps the perky real estate agent learned a valuable lesson, too: you never know what you're going to run into when you're making cold calls. It's easy to forget how harsh life can be. It's not my job to teach people that lesson, but neither is it my place to shield them from it, either.

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