May
22
So I strapped on the pith helmet Sunday, work boots, and unlimbered the elephant gun (err, weed eater), and braved the jungle that the backyard at the Main St. house had turned into. I’d been merrily avoiding any and all yardwork there but it was reaching the point that I had to do something or it was going to get away from me, as far as being able to whack it down via a combination of a push mower, weed eater, and assorted hacking and cutting implements.
Not much fun, by any stretch of the imagination, but it wasn’t quite as bad as I feared, as it was overgrown when I bought it, so I had no idea what sort of junk or crap was hidden back there. Thankfully, not much at all, and I even unearthed a semi-bonus in lots of fairly new galvanized pipe that I’m assuming was part of a chain link fence at some point.
I parked in the back driveway, and about three or four hours into the fun a beat-up Buick with tinted windows and thumping bass pulled in behind my truck, sat there for a minute or so, and started honking its horn. I’m pretty busy, sweaty, not exactly merrily whistling whilst I do my work, and I have absolutely no idea who that car belongs to, and absolutely no intention of dropping what I’m doing to go see what they want.
Horn continues to honk a couple of times. Finally a guy, woman, and kid roll out, obviously grumpy at being forced to get out of their air conditioned car, and tell me they want to talk to the owner of the house. Establish that I’m the owner, that I’m fixing up and selling the house, and they start giving me the hard sell, as to why I should rent it to them instead.
Fair enough, and I understand where they’re coming from, but I couldn’t help but slightly be amused. I’m always polite in situations like that and never say what I’m thinking, which is something along the lines of:
“Pretty much a guaranteed way to get me to NEVER consider renting this house to you would be to interrupt me while I’m working, honking your damn horn at me repeatedly because you don’t want to get out of your car and walk ten feet, and, when finally forced to get off your ass, do so with a gargantuan chip on your shoulder, for being so terribly inconvenienced like that.”
I guess it’s encouraging the people keep interrupting me while I’m working over there, interested in the house, but so far they haven’t exactly been the most qualified of leads.
Comments
1 Comment so far
That is bizarre. Is it really that well known that your house is vacant? Or do you have a real estate sign out front?