As I was reading Kathy Streib 's post this morning about an embarrassing moment (or two), I was reminded of an event that happened last year to Tammie and me.
We were out in the "country"--far enough out that we didn't see any neighbors as we drove up to this beautiful home. It was only the two of us since we were previewing homes for an out of town buyer. We had made the appointment and showed up on time that morning.
The listing agent had left quite a few directions as to things we needed to do to safely enter the house. When the list is longer than, "Insert the key", you know it isn't going to go well.
She had told us there was an alarm, but that it would be turned off. Just in case, she said, here's the information as to how to turn it off. All righty then, no problem.
We entered the house and you guessed it, we heard the dreaded, beep, beep, beep. Crap. I'm familiar with alarms and I assumed I would see the panel somewhere near the front door or hallway since the agent neglected to tell us where it was. Of course, it wasn't in one those most logical places.
I think the beeping got faster...at least that's how I remember it. I was running through the downstairs like a mad man looking for the gosh darn alarm panel! No luck. Then the siren started. I knew I was too late and the police were going to be called. The phone rang and we answered it and explained to the alarm company who we were. It didn't matter they said, the police were coming!
Shoot! I have to be honest, part of me actually wanted to run! Of course we didn't, we sat outside the house waiting for the County Sheriff's Department to show up. Eventually they arrived and we showed our identifications and explained what had happened. I don't exactly remember how the alarm got turned off, but we left--fortunately, not in handcuffs!
To this day if I know there's an alarm at a house we're showing, I start sweating!
Photo courtesy of Freedigitalphotos.net/StuartMiles
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