Three years ago, we had our previous house on the market. We placed a “For Sale By Owner” sign at the front of our house.
It didn’t take long before the phone started ringing.
One woman said she wanted to take a look at the house. She said that a friend of hers was interested in buying a house in Princeton and she was looking around for him.
She made an appointment with me. She was late, very late; an hour and a half late. Just when I assumed she was blowing off the appointment, and didn’t have the courtesy to call, I stepped outside in the backyard to grill dinner. At the moment I fired up the grill, a car pulled into the driveway. It was 6:30 at night. I’m thinking, “You’re kidding me, right?”
I walked up to her driver door. She rolled down the window and nonchalantly said, “I’m sorry I’m late.” I thought to myself “Thanks for the courtesy call.”
I showed her the house. She didn’t really ask the right questions. I asked her a couple of questions about her so-called friend who wanted to buy a house in Princeton. She was rather vague. She said, “He’s from China and has a business.” He’s looking for a house where he can have a home office and be close to the Route 1 corridor.”
Her story sounded plausible. However, I detected she wasn’t a “friend” of someone who wanted to buy a house. I put two and two together and thought, “I bet this woman is a real estate agent disguising herself as a friend.”
The next day, I did a little bit of easy breezy searching on-line.
I clicked on local real estate agency’s websites, glancing at agents’ professional headshots and speed-reading through a few of their bios.
Sure enough, I stumbled upon the photo of the woman who showed up late, pretending to be a friend of a prospective buyer–and making up an entire story to me during the 30-minute house and property tour.
A real estate agent!
Next: A real estate agent pulls into our driveway, unannounced.