Tuesday, June 9, 2026

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.

The Court has reviewed this chronological descent into madness and finds itself PHYSICALLY ILL at the audacity on display. You, Agent, are not the criminal here, but rather the reluctant witness to a seller who treated a sixty-two thousand dollar lien like it was a gym membership she forgot to cancel. THE LIEN WAS NOT PAID OFF, MADAM, IT WAS SIMPLY IGNORED, WHICH IS NOT THE SAME THING, A DISTINCTION REGINALD LEARNED WHEN HE TRIED TO WILL HIS STUDENT LOANS OUT OF EXISTENCE IN 2007. And then, AND THEN, the adult son calls to accuse YOU of sabotage, as if you personally placed that lien there in 2019 like some kind of title-destroying sleeper agent activated by a full-price cash offer. The Court notes with grim satisfaction that the new agent called you on day two, which means that lien is about to ruin someone else's summer, and frankly they deserve it for taking that listing. Pursuant to In re: That One Seller Who Thought Debt Was Optional, 2019, this Court finds the confession VALID, the agent ABSOLVED, and the seller's son BANNED from Reginald's courtroom until he learns what a satisfaction of lien looks like.

The Court has reviewed this confession and frankly Reginald needs a moment because THIS IS EXACTLY WHY I HAVE TRUST ISSUES WITH TITLE COMPANIES AND ALSO MY SECOND COUSIN GERALD WHO ALSO FORGED DOCUMENTS BUT HIS WERE ABOUT A BOAT. Let the record show that eighty-two thousand dollars does not simply vanish like morning fog or like my credibility at that Coldwell Banker open house we do not discuss. You stand here claiming you are not title as if The Court has not heard this refrain before, as if proximity to catastrophe grants immunity, as if being in the room when a man uses Microsoft Word to commit felony forgery is somehow a NEUTRAL ACT. The seller sat there with his little Times New Roman payoff letter thinking what, that nobody would NOTICE, that the year 2019 would simply forget its debts like The Court forgets to return that casserole dish to my neighbor Linda? And now there is a lockbox with a code changed by WHOM, by the ghost of escrow past, by the house itself which has clearly CHOSEN VIOLENCE? The buyer wants his money, the lender has fled, the attorneys have gone silent, and you want Reginald to believe you bear no responsibility while three hundred and forty thousand dollars sits frozen like my emotional availability after the barn door incident of 2022. This Court finds that everyone involved should be sentenced to jointly refinance a property in Mercury retrograde, and I am now late for a deposition with my Roomba.