So what had happened was…

(Get caught up here.)

This was supposed to be the series finale, but the drama has just been renewed for another season.

Around Thanksgiving, we found a great house on 6 acres, and we were super pumped about the view (the! view!), the barn, and the size of the house. The down side was that it needed an entirely new roof and 100% new flooring. I’ll say one word about the smell we’d have to overcome with new floors including the hardwood, not just the carpet. One word, people: cats. (Plural.)

We were the only offer, and things seemed to be about ready to wrap up. At the last minute, there was only one more offer and we got outbid. Yes, it was disappointing, but we kept looking. In neighborhoods. Out on land. Just land. Close to town. On the outskirts. Nothing was off limits, and even though it’s a really hot market in our town, we were finding some interesting and possibly bidworthy homes. But none of them were The One. We kept expanding our price circle and came across a really sweet looking property. But really, what is a budget anyway? It’s merely a guideline.

It was beyond the price range we were considering, but it came in at 9 acres and includes a 3-car garage/shop, a creek running through it, and plenty of trails and wildlife. It feels like it’s out in the country, but it’s only 8 minutes to The Bird’s high school and 12 minutes to the grocery store.

To spare you the gory details and the back-and-forth with ourselves, our finances, and our future plans, we just went ahead and did it. Then it got interesting.

Our first bid was 6.5% below list. We were informed that the number was insulting. About a week or so later, we came WAY up to 1% below list, but the seller wouldn’t budge in the slightest. They said they’d entertain our offer if we could close by the end of the year. Since it was about December 5, there was just no way. (We are certain that we could have bid $500 below list, and it would still not be sufficient.) Convinced that the property was overpriced, it was hard to justify what we bid, let alone list price. When we got the call from our agent that the seller’s agent might have a buyer for our house, and we may not even have to list it on MLS, we were happy to entertain the idea, so she asked if she could come by and see the house. Unfortunately, our agent was not available to join us, so we’d have to go it alone. Not a problem. We are smart, savvy, and have been through the homebuying (and selling) process multiple times. What could possibly go wrong?

I want to start explaining what happened by making it very clear that it is being told from my perspective only, and the way it made me feel and react. Some experiences are not as easy or congenial as they could be because there are often conflicting agendas at play. Our agenda is to purchase a home, pay only what we must, and do right by everyone involved to the extent that we can. I can’t blame an agent working on their clients behalf, but when it feels “icky,” then it’s difficult to do business.

So it begins.

The seller’s agent came to our home on the pretense of looking at it, being able to present it to a buyer, and getting us top dollar, so we could move forward on purchasing the house we want. First red flag: it took her 20 minutes to take a look around, and it was only at our suggestion.

The first 15 minutes in our home was discussing “how we can close this deal? I’m ready to make this happen.” She complained that her sellers were uncooperative and difficult, and she was ready to dump the listing. The argument was that it was only a difference of 1%, when the reality is that we already came up 5.5%, so it was more than she was looking at on the surface.

The next argument to was, “We all know it’s overpriced. If it doesn’t appraise, the sellers will already be invested in selling it, and we can negotiate.” If it’s overpriced, why are we having this conversation? Why aren’t you discussing with your clients that a 1% drop is reasonable?

The next argument was, “If you really want something, you just make it happen.” The example used was that she drove to Kansas to pick up the truck of her dreams, and I quote, “I didn’t give a shit that it was a thousand miles away. I had my heart set on that truck.” Throw in a couple f-bombs for conversation seasoning, and you have a real winner. Spicy language doesn’t faze me. But it’s unprofessional and crude when you don’t know me at all. Call me old school, but I believe women should be lady in public. You don’t have to be refined, but at least know your audience, carry yourself with respect, and treat people fairly. I didn’t get any of these vibes from the woman standing in my kitchen.

The last argument was, “You’ll be fine, if you’re concerned about equity. It will appraise, and you’ll get your 20% back in equity.” (We are putting 20% down.)

Wait, what? Will it appraise or not? Do you want to see the house? Do you really have a buyer? Oh, and can you watch your mouth around my kids?

Within the hour she visited, she simultaneously insulted my home (the backyard is too small and you need to shampoo the carpets), tried to poach me from my agent (I could list this for you and stage it to sell, here’s my card), admitted she called my loan officer and confirmed that we could afford list (so why weren’t we on board?), and swore around my kids, not once or twice, but three different times.

She spent less than 4 minutes looking at the house itself, and I could not kick her out fast enough.

She left at 7:30pm with a 9pm deadline to accept or reject our offer. And, as our agent rightly pointed out, the last one to talk in a negotiation loses. We didn’t call them after she left. In our minds, if they don’t call us back, that was it. Let’s move on.

She called the following week and said the sellers “wanted to have a discussion.” Great. Let’s talk. Be sure you’re sitting down for this counteroffer.

Wait for it.

“We’ll sell it at list, but we won’t ask to close by the end of the year.” Well, stop the presses!

We were fully comfortable letting the property go. If we couldn’t come to an agreement at 99%, then I don’t want to fight about it. I’ll find something else. So, we continued our search and went on with our lives. Holton jokingly said one quiet evening, “It’s weird. We don’t have anything to talk about when we don’t have house decisions to discuss.” But I was at peace. I didn’t care. It just wasn’t the house we were meant to have.

So, what had happened was…

Holton’s heart grew three sizes 1% that day. We figured, let’s just do this. We can afford it, we love the idea of having 9 acres, a shop, a place for the trailer, a creek, a peekaboo view of the mountains, and 4 bedrooms. We called our agent and went up to list. Yes, yes, I know. Shut up and just go with it. This is my story, not yours.

Our offer was accepted on December 21, contingent on the sale of our house. By contract, contingent sales must be listed within 5 business days. Not a problem. Taking into account the observed Christmas holiday, December 29 was our target.

What could possibly go wrong?