Guys! On Friday, I had a chance to see Hillgirt in person. I’ve updated the post with some of my own pictures and some additional observations. Click here to get to the updated post.
Touring Hillgirt and meeting Hillgirt?
I wanted to share with you my experience at the open house because it was one of the oddest open house experiences I have ever had. There’s no way poor, Hillgirt, is selling anytime soon, even in this hot-a** market.
Sometime on Friday morning, I got alerted by Redfin that Hillgirt were going to have an open house. So at the appointed time I show up, pulling up to the house about 15 minutes after the open house was scheduled to start. The first odd thing I noticed was that there wasn’t a single “Open House” sign. I mean, none. Zero. Zilch.
As I’m walking up the front steps, I have to step over a half empty bag of concrete and then I hear drilling and hammering but I don’t see anyone around. So I start thinking that I must have hallucinated the open house alert. As I’m scrolling through my phone to find the alert, I walk up to the front door and look in hoping to see a realtor. Nope. No one was inside. I take another moment to try to find the alert on my phone and also to debate how pushy I’m going to be about seeing this house. The hammering or drilling continues. I start thinking that maybe it’s the owner doing some last-minute repairs. *gulp*
Feeling really guilty about having trashed the house on the blog, I seriously considered turning around and leaving, but then I thought of you guys and decided I owed it to you to pull up my big girl pants and see the house.
Timidly, I knocked and called out “Hellooooo?” The hammering and drilling stopped and then I heard footsteps. A man came down the stairs and I asked him “Hi, is there an open house? I thought there was an open house but…” He then gave me a huge smile, muttered something unintelligible and waved me in. I asked him again if was okay for me to look around and then he said “Yes” and went back upstairs.
So I started looking around. There was no one there. Not any other potential buyers. No realtors. No one except me and Mr. Smiles. I took my time looking through the downstairs hoping someone else would show up so it wasn’t just me looking through the house. But no one ever did. I was there for 30 minutes and Mr. Smiles just kept hammering away and I just kept looking around.
Eventually, after I’d stepped over Mr. Smiles a couple of times to get in and out of the bedrooms, I finally asked him if he was the owner. (We’d exchanged a few words by then so I was feeling comfortable.) Thankfully he said “No.” I’m not sure why I’m thankful about that. Maybe it’s because I would have felt compelled to ask him about the choices he made for the house, which would have turned into a cross-examination and then eventually I would have blurted out how “interesting” the finishes were and then giggled awkwardly trying to cover up the fact that I clearly hated his house.
When I got outside, I happened to catch a woman sitting in the back seat of the pick-up truck that was parked in the driveway. This wasn’t a beater, truck you would expect a handy-person to drive. This was one of those fancy, four-door huge a** pick-up trucks, shiny and black. She just seemed to be lounging, like literally reclined and lounging in the back-seat. I wonder if that was Hillgirt…