The story that I wrote recently about the man who came home to find his locks changed on his new home, the furniture moved and the dining room ceiling painted was pretty outrageous, and it was featured with plenty of comments.
But, in my humble opinion, this one was funnier and better, probably because I was there and who I was there with.
I was showing property to a younger police officer from a neighboring community. (The cops like me and refer me frequently which I don’t mind at all.)
And, he, being a first-time buyer wanted to bring his mom along to help him check things out. That was cool….plenty of room for Mom, and she was fun and funny, too.
The second property we wanted to see had a jammed combo lockbox. Hmm… cop, me, bad lockbox, permission to enter a vacant property. No problem.
I slid the ever-ready plastic business card of mine through the door jamb. Open. Just in case, I called out. You never know.
Smell of incense in the air? In a vacant house? No. Both the cop and I knew better. Just then a big sound from the basement. The sliding glass door must have been opened because Mom and the cop and I were treated to the sight of a bare-butted squatter heading out to the field behind the house! No shoes, no shirt, Just FROSTBITE, dude.
Well, even though it was bitterly cold out, we stuck around for about half an hour, checking things out, laughing and wondering if he would be able to get back in.
Meantime, I alerted the listing agent and told him that the few belongings that the guy had could be found in one of the upstairs bedrooms and that he might want to alert the authorities to check for re-occupancy!
Now that is one for the books, in my opinion. I have found evidence of squatters before, but never one running buck naked from a home in the middle of December.
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