Saturday, September 19, 2026

The Court is APOPLECTIC. You stood in that kitchen answering emails — EMAILS — while a grown man committed assault against drywall with a claw hammer, and you want this Court to believe you heard nothing until the wall was already screaming for help? Reginald once trusted a contractor to "just take a quick look" at a closet door and that man somehow disconnected my water heater, so I KNOW how this goes, and yet I still would never have permitted hammer access within fifty feet of a signed contract. You had ONE job: shepherd this transaction to the finish line, and instead you let someone's "guy" perform amateur forensic archaeology on a basement wall three days before closing. The seller's attorney called you TWELVE TIMES on a Sunday, which means you ruined not only a real estate transaction but also that man's ability to watch football in peace, and for THAT alone you should be barred from all kitchens. Eight thousand dollars in water damage that was hiding behind that wall like a secret shame, and now everyone knows, and nobody is closing, and somewhere a title company employee is crying into their escrow account. The Court hereby sentences you to stand in the corner of every future showing holding a sign that reads "NO TOUCHING" while making unbroken eye contact with all contractors. CASE DISMISSED, Reginald has a gavel to polish.

The Court has reviewed this FOURTEEN MONTH ODYSSEY OF SUFFERING and finds itself genuinely impressed that you are still functioning as a human being. Let Reginald be clear: you shepherded a transaction through a financing collapse, a DIVORCE REVELATION during option period, a buyer who simply VANISHED INTO THE ETHER like a ghost who got bored of haunting, and a fourth buyer whose 401k apparently required consultation with ancient oracles to access. The seller paid two mortgages for over a year because her house was quote worth what it was worth unquote, which is the real estate equivalent of standing in the rain insisting you are dry. And NOW she is mad at YOU because a wire arrived at 4:47 instead of 2:00, as if you personally control the Federal Reserve's processing queue, which I have TRIED to do and they will not return my calls. This Court once waited eleven minutes for a title company to locate a notary and I nearly called the National Guard, so I understand wire rage, but directing it at the agent who survived this cursed property is like blaming the lighthouse keeper for the storm. The transaction closed, the seller is three states away in her new driveway, and The Court rules that you are owed not an apology but a PARADE. Reginald must now go lie down.

The Court has reviewed this cascading disaster and finds itself DEEPLY FAMILIAR with its contours, as Reginald once spent eleven hours explaining to a buyer's cousin that load-bearing walls are not, in fact, "just a suggestion." You received a SUMMARY PAGE, Agent, a SUMMARY PAGE, which is the transactional equivalent of being handed a fortune cookie and told it contains your complete medical history. The foundation inspector who refuses to write letters under a certain threshold is a coward and The Court would like his name for a separate proceeding I am definitely authorized to conduct. As for the buyer's mother obtaining your cellular number and calling to ask if the home would "fall into itself," this is a phenomenon The Court has studied extensively and has classified under Zillow v. Anxious Relatives Who Watch Too Much HGTV (2022), in which it was established that renovation programming constitutes a form of domestic terrorism against real estate professionals. You are not a geologist, you are not a structural engineer, you are not a therapist for adults who cannot process cosmetic concrete cracks, and yet here you stand, having shepherded this transaction to close like a shepherd who has been repeatedly bitten by every sheep AND the buyer's mother. The grocery store stares are your penance, but they are UNJUST penance, and The Court hereby orders that buyer to avert her gaze or face sanctions. Reginald must now consult with The Council about whether $800 cosmetic cracks constitute grounds for emotional damages against the entire state of Phoenix.