Today, I previewed a condo that could have been really gorgeous - or not. It had a fabulous virtual tour, but I suspected that it might have had a pretty high funk factor with the location. It's in Columbia Heights, an emerging neighborhood that is probably about a half renovated, and half a little funky. So I wanted to check out the block before I showed it.
And, yeah. The block was a little bit dodgy, with a bunch of boarded up buildings. Although in this town, especially in Columbia Heights, that often means renovations about to happen. Still, I made sure the car alarm was on and I hid my purse under my trench coat before I got out to open the lock box.
It was a short sale, so I didn't have real high expectations. But other than being slightly soiled, it was a pretty nice place. Still, I didn't think that a home inspector would treat it kindly though, because the renovations were looking a little thin at the elbows.
Anyway, I went through the place, stepped over clutter left by the former occupant, then locked up, hoping my car would still be there.
So I went down the two flights of stairs and when I pushed the front door open, nothing happened. I looked around for a button to push or a keyhole that might unlock it, but nothing! Yikes!
There were only three units in the building, it was mid-day, and nobody was home. I'd left my listing information with the agent's contact in the car, so I started to feel a little trapped, and nervous!
Then I noticed the for sale sign, and I could barely make out the agent's phone number! So I called, and then she actually answered her phone! And she talked me through the somewhat complex instructions for getting out of the place!
I don't think I've ever been so happy to have a colleague pick up a phone! And if my client does want to see the place, at least I'll know how to get us out of there!
And yeah, the car was fine. I didn't get mugged. And as I realized that this was about a neighborhood that was hip and trendy waiting to happen, I started to feel a little old.