I hosted an open house last month where a guy walked in, completely ignored my greeting, and immediately started opening every cabinet in the kitchen. Not looking inside them—just opening and closing them repeatedly while muttering "good hinges, good hinges" like some kind of hardware-obsessed ghost. He did this for twelve minutes. I timed it. Then there was the family who brought their four kids and a bag of Cheetos. Orange fingerprints on the white quartz countertops, the farmhouse sink, and somehow the ceiling of the powder room. I still don't understand the physics of that last one. But the real highlight was the woman who asked if she could "test the bathtub acoustics" and then started singing opera before I could respond. Full volume. The neighbors came outside. I had exactly two serious buyers come through in four hours. One left because of the opera. The other asked if the Cheeto ceiling was a design choice. My seller texted me that night asking how it went. I replied "great turnout, lots of interest" because what else am I supposed to say? The truth would require therapy for both of us.