Closing Time

I slept like the dead after moving day.  Didn’t matter that I was in a strange bed with a very uncertain future ahead of me.  The only things on the agenda for that Tuesday were to gleefully return my cable equipment to Comcast and, of course, finalize the sell of my home.

It had been a journey to get to this point.  Many times I didn’t think the house would ever sell.  While I’d heard stories of homes selling within days of a listing, that was mostly before summer 2022.  Getting towards the end of the year, the economy was heating up, people were getting laid off and everything just seemed more uncertain with each passing month.  I put the house on sale on 12/1/22 and we had an open house the following Saturday.  It was a wet, miserable day so I was surprised that we got four people to come in.  No takers though.

The price was lowered from the original asking price three times and each time we did it, there were more showings.  And yeah, those were fun.  My realtor, Connor, would call/email and tell me when to leave the house, requiring me to erase any evidence that I lived there.  Clean the bathrooms, the kitchen, make the bed and tidy up then make myself scarce.  I had one chick show up twenty minutes early while I scurried out the back, a couple of no shows, and one realtor who used the entire 30 minutes when most of the showings took half that time.  I had gone out for a walk during that one and came back tired and cranky, forced to wander around the neighborhood until these strangers got out of my house.   There were a couple of surprise showings, people ringing my doorbell when the house wasn’t ready and I’d been given no warning.  Then there was the one realtor who showed up ½ hour after his slot when I’d already returned home and was setting things back to normal.  Copping an attitude of ‘well, we’re here now.  It’s up to you.’  I wanted to punch him in the face.  Instead, I played nice and again left the house so these strangers could do a walk through.  The showing process was truly a pain in the butt.

Fortunately, the fourth and final price drop actually caught a buyer.  I’d had a couple of other offers but neither of them felt right.  One was from a realtor who wanted me to replace the roof (a roughly $10,000 expense) so she could rent the place out.  The other offer was from an investor who wanted to do the same.  Connor didn’t like these offers any more than I did.  I explained to him that I did not want to sell to an investor, someone looking to pay me as little as possible while gouging the next owner/renter just to make a profit.  There’s a housing crisis on, housing prices are through the roof while wages are stagnating.  I wanted someone in the house who wanted to be there.  This offer seemed to fit the bill perfectly.  This is his first home purchase and will be his primary residence and not just a way to make money. 

I went to an unfamiliar part of town, not far from the house, to meet with a lawyer, a bunch of real estate agents, and the new owner, Michael.  I initially thought I was late because everyone else, except Connor, had already arrived.  Connor did appear soon after and then it was about signing a ton of paperwork.  As we both signed, I explained to Michael some of the benefits I’d found in living at 150 Swanee Lane (a nice quiet neighborhood that was walking distance to a grocery store, post office, and various restaurants) as well as some of the issues (noisy water heater, lousy parking).  He was not the most genial man I’d ever met but I wished him the best.

As we were walking out, I expressed my genuine gratitude to Connor.  He was very personable, quick to respond to my emails and seemed to understand my wishes. Unlike my last realtor.  I attributed my inability to sell the house in 2007 due to the rising housing crash, but now I think I also just had a bad realtor.  I simply did not like that woman.

Leaving the lawyer’s office, I took the cable boxes and modem to the local Comcast office.  I was expecting a hassle.  The company has been robbing me blind for years.  Their internet connection was good and reliable, but I was paying way too much for cable that was less appealing to me every year.  I’ve heard horror stories about Comcast customer service – one of the reasons I rarely contacted them for anything. Instead of a hassle, though, the Comcast guy took my bag of equipment, barely glancing at it as he pulled up my account then asked me ‘Why are you paying so much?’  You tell me, pal!  He said I had an older plan and should have come into the office to renegotiate.  NOW he tells me.  I told him I would happily take that money back if he’s offering.  Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t do that.  He instead told me I didn’t owe any more and closed the account.  I do love it when the hassle I’m expecting never arrives.

With the rest of the day free, I decided to do something that I’ve wanted to do since I moved to Woodstock in 2003 – visit the historic downtown section.  I’d driven down Main Street numerous times over the years, but never bothered to stop and get out of the car.  Since it was a gloriously sunny and warm day, I finally parked the car to walk up and down the short strip of restaurants and shops.  There are some funky little places down there and I’m glad I got a chance to see them.  I had a ginormous calzone for lunch at this hole-in-the-wall pizza place with enough left over for dinner. I checked out the bookstore and the visitor’s center.  Seemed a good way to end my time in fair Woodstock. I will miss it.