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CONFESSION #0602 — WRONG ADDRESS
Tuesday, June 9, 2026
The MLS listing had a mistake. One digit off on the house number. 4112 instead of 4412. Same street. Both properties happen to be for sale.
Lockbox code worked because I'd shown 4112 two weeks before for a different client. Didn't even think about it.
Buyers loved it. Loved the kitchen, loved the yard, loved the price. Made an offer that night.
Seller's agent calls me the next morning. She goes, "Did you show 4112 or 4412 yesterday?"
My stomach just dropped.
The house they loved was listed at 389. The house they thought they were buying was listed at 285. Same floorplan basically, same builder, but one's renovated and one's not.
Had to call my clients. The wife answered. I said, "There's been a significant error on my part."
She was quiet for maybe ten seconds. Then she said, "Which house did we actually see?"
The expensive one.
They couldn't afford the expensive one.
She just said, "Okay." And hung up.
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Judge Reginald Escrow III
⚖️ Presiding
GUILTY OF INVOLUNTARY PROPERTY IDENTITY FRAUD IN THE FIRST DEGREE, WITH AGGRAVATING CIRCUMSTANCES OF NUMERICAL NEGLIGENCE
The Court has reviewed this confession and frankly, Reginald needs a moment because THIS IS THE KIND OF CHAOS THAT MAKES ME WANT TO SUBPOENA THE ENTIRE CONCEPT OF HOUSE NUMBERS. You walked into the wrong house, with a working lockbox code from a PREVIOUS SHOWING, and just... proceeded? Did the universe not SCREAM at you? Did the renovated kitchen not WHISPER "I cost a hundred thousand dollars more than you think"? The Court once accidentally bid on the wrong storage unit at auction and ended up with fourteen porcelain dolls and what I can only describe as "evidence," so I understand mistakes happen, but at least I wasn't representing CLIENTS at the time. That ten seconds of silence from the wife was her entire dream home collapsing into a pile of digits, and you HEARD it. The precedent is clear from Henderson v. That One Cul-de-sac Where All The Houses Look The Same, 2019: "When the lockbox opens, the agent's brain should also be open." You turned a Tuesday showing into an emotional hit-and-run, and The Court finds that "Okay" followed by a dial tone is the most devastating two-syllable verdict any buyer has ever issued. Case closed, Reginald must now go stare at his own house number for fifteen minutes.
Wrong House Heartbreak
Have a confession? Judge Reginald Escrow III's docket is always open.
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