Monday, May 11, 2026

The deal had been dead for a week before I found out. Buyers just ghosted, their agent stopped returning calls, and nobody thought to loop me in until I texted asking about the closing date. The appraisal came in at 312. We were under contract at 365. Fifty-three thousand dollar gap, and the appraiser used a comp from a foreclosure two streets over that sold in February. February. During that ice storm when half the neighborhood had burst pipes. My sellers, they'd already put a deposit on their new place in Austin. Non-refundable. Eight thousand dollars. The appraiser, and this is the part that still gets me, he never went inside. Did a drive-by because quote the exterior condition was sufficient for valuation purposes unquote. The house has a brand new kitchen. Forty thousand dollar renovation, we have receipts, we have before photos, we have the permit paperwork. He valued it based on the vinyl siding. Called the lender to dispute, got transferred three times, ended up talking to someone who kept calling it "the property in question" like we were in court. She said they'd review it in 10 to 15 business days. The contract expired in 8. My sellers are now paying two mortgages. The buyers found something else, closed last week apparently. And the foreclosure comp? That house just resold for 340. Three months later. Same house. Nobody apologizes in this business. They just move on to the next file. Meanwhile I'm still getting automated emails asking me to rate my experience with the appraisal management company.

She called on a Sunday. The homeowner. Crying. Not upset crying, like angry crying. She goes "there's a bathtub in my living room." I said what do you mean there's a bathtub in your living room. She goes "the stagers put a bathtub in my living room. A clawfoot bathtub. It's full of decorative lemons." I drove over. She wasn't exaggerating. Freestanding tub, maybe 200 lemons, right where her sectional used to be. The staging company's "signature piece." Nobody told me about a signature piece. The homeowner's standing there going "I have to live here for three more weeks. Where am I supposed to sit." I called the staging coordinator. She goes "it photographs beautifully, trust the process." Trust the process. There's no water hookup. It's just a dry tub of citrus fruit. We had 40 showings. Every single feedback form mentioned the tub. Not in a good way. One buyer wrote "is this a home or a fever dream." Sold 8K under asking. The lemons started rotting week two.

We lost the earnest money dispute. Eight thousand dollars, gone, because I didn't read page 34 of the HOA documents. There's a clause—and I swear this wasn't in the table of contents—that says owners can't rent the property for the first two years after purchase. My buyer was an investor. That was the whole point. He was going to rent it out immediately. And here's the thing, I did skim the HOA stuff. I did. But it was 200 pages and the rental restriction was buried in a section called "Community Harmony Standards" which I assumed was about paint colors and lawn height. Who puts rental restrictions under community harmony? The seller's agent knew. She had to have known. But she didn't say anything because why would she. My buyer's not returning my calls now. Which, I get it. Eight thousand dollars. I keep thinking about how I could've just read twelve more pages.