I had a deal blow up last week because the buyer's home inspector was apparently training for a career as a forensic investigator. This guy spent four hours in a 1,400 square foot condo. Four hours. He found a "suspicious stain" on the garage floor that turned out to be where the seller's kid spilled a Gatorade in 2019. He flagged the water heater as "nearing end of life" — it was three years old. He wrote up the slightly squeaky third stair as a "potential structural concern." By the time he was done, his report was 67 pages long and my buyers were convinced they were purchasing a condemned building. They walked. The seller was furious. I tried to explain that the inspector was being ridiculous, but the damage was done. The buyers are now "taking a break from house hunting" and the seller relisted with another agent because somehow this was my fault. I've started asking buyers who their inspector is before we even write offers now. If I hear certain names, I suddenly become very busy.