Tales from the (Real Estate) Crypt
Reading time: 4 minutes
We’re approaching that witchy time of year, when jack o’lanterns and all manner of plastic skeletons, fabric bats, synthetic spider webs and cardboard tombstones proliferate on doorsteps throughout the city. In general, the more elaborate the decorations, the less haunted the house!
I’ve yet to feel the presence of an evil or blithe spirit when showing property, though I’ve encountered plenty of unsettling surprises in my career: Creepy collectibles on display, like empty faded margarine tubs or dozens of containers of generic baby powder. Overstuffed kitty litter boxes hiding in bedroom closets. Newly hatched flies literally filling a laundry room (ostensibly sprung from the maggots born in a decaying rodent). $700 in cash plus a guide to the best brothels near Reno, Nevada – stashed under a subfloor. All unexpected, slightly spooky and enough to make you jump.
But the usual real estate horror is always transactional:
On the morning after the purchase contract is ratified and the 3% earnest money has been deposited in escrow, your Buyer texts, “I’ve changed my mind and I need to get out of the contract.” This rarely goes over well with the Listing Agent and the Seller, and it’s highly likely to cost Buyer their full deposit or – if liquidated damages aren’t part of the contract – more. You text back, “Call me. Let’s discuss.” Scary Scale Rating: 3 screams.
Just before the proverbial ball drops on New Year’s Eve, new owners of a condo you sold earlier in December call frantically to say, “There’s water dripping out of our bedroom recessed light cans.” Though you’re accustomed to getting these calls every time the winter rains start back up in California, it’s always a rude surprise. Good luck getting a roofer out anytime soon. Scary Scale Rating: 2 screams.
At 8 am, just two or three hours before your 2-unit building listing in the Mission is set to record and close, Compliance calls to ask, “What’s up with this address on the Natural Hazards Report? It isn’t correct!” At first you dismiss their concern, as you’ve looked at that report umpteen times, and so has Seller, Buyer and Buyer’s Agent. But Compliance insists you look again. Sure enough, the address says 20th Avenue when it should say 20th Street. How, you wonder, did everyone miss this? You know, from experience, that the (accurate) 20th Street location is in a liquefaction zone (where the ground can turn to Jello during a seismic event). This is a material change which – even at this late date – gives the Buyers the right to withdraw from the transaction. Heart racing, you email the title officer and instruct them not to record until further notice. Then, you pick up your mobile to text Buyer’s Agent… Scary Scale Rating: 5 screams.
As Seller’s Agent, you’ve just issued a counteroffer of $3.9M to a Buyer / Buyer’s Agent for an Ashbury Heights home. You’ve spoken with Buyer’s Agent and are feeling confident that they’ll accept. Checking your email, you see a message from another potential Buyer’s Agent; attached is an all-cash, no-conditions offer of $4.2M for the same house. You feel nauseous as you begin frantically texting and calling your Seller, because you know you have only hours – possibly minutes – in which to get their signature on a Counteroffer Rescission so you can hunt down and deliver it to Buyer #1’s Agent. Otherwise, there goes an extra $300k for your client. Scary Scale Rating: 4 screams.
Your new listing is a low-end Tenancy in Common unit in the Sunset. TICs are inherently more difficult than other sales, and in this case the Sellers are warring siblings who don’t speak to one another but who have inherited their parents’ home. You’ve agreed to help them because you care and because you had a close relationship with the parents. You know you’re in trouble when the brother calls and asks you to wait while he conferences in his sister. (Whatever is going on, it’s important enough that they’ve opted to speak with one another!) “We forgot to tell you,” they say, “But we want you to pay a 20% referral fee to his aunt in Kansas City and a 15% referral fee to her cousin in San Bernadino.” Scary Scale rating: 1 scream.
It took three heart-breaking losses in multiple-offer competition before your Buyer finally acquired their dream home. After closing, they found quite a few items the Seller had failed to disclose – some dry rot under the front stairs, a leak through a rear window and an inoperable refrigerator. The purchase contract stipulated an “as is” sale and your Buyer fully understood and accepted what that meant, yet these discoveries still cause stress and upset. You refer them to a reliable contractor for the stairs and window, and the home warranty plan you purchased kicks in on the fridge. But just as things are quieting down, your Buyer calls, literally screaming, because they’ve opened the ceiling hatch to the crawl space and been showered with heaps of rat turds. Scary Scale rating: *5 screams. *Downgraded to 1 scream after further investigation reveals the turds are, in fact, roofing detritus that resembles rat poop.
Creaky floors, raspy door hinges, shuddering pipes, sunless basements, cobwebs, hidden door wall panels, broken window panes, stairless stairwells, abandoned playhouses, sinkholes and more are all just an ordinary part of selling real estate. The true devil is in the details of the deal.
Author and RealEstateTherapy curator Cynthia Cummins has been devoted to homeowners and homebuyers for three decades and counting. Visit KindredSFhomes.com for more information on San Francisco real estate.
Photo credit: Nathan McDine
