I hosted an open house last Sunday where a guy walked in, ignored my greeting completely, and proceeded to open every single cabinet in the kitchen to smell the inside. Not look. Smell. He'd stick his whole head in there and take a deep inhale like he was judging a candle competition. When he finally acknowledged my existence, he asked if the owners had ever cooked fish in the house. I said I didn't know. He said "I can tell they have" and left. Didn't sign in, didn't take a flyer, just walked out shaking his head like the place had personally offended him. Twenty minutes later, a woman came in with her own measuring tape and spent an hour determining that her antique armoire wouldn't fit in the primary bedroom. She measured that doorway eleven times. I counted. She also asked if the sellers would be willing to widen the doorframe before closing. For her armoire. That she hadn't even bought the house to put it in yet. I smiled through all of it because that's what we do. Went home and ate a whole sleeve of Oreos in my car.