No, My House is NOT for Sale!

*Phone rings.*

Hello?

You want to buy my house? I love my house. I'm glad you like it too.

It's getting nicer all the time with the work my husband does on it whenever we've got the money for supplies.

Oh, and the gardening he does. He's the one with the green thumb and the patience to care for the plants on a daily basis. It's kind of our desert oasis.

Oh, you haven't actually seen it? Still, you want to make an offer? I'm not sure you can meet my demand.

Then again, you've apparently got an inexhaustible source of money. Who else would call and text strangers regularly and offer to buy their house when it's not even for sale?

Just so you know, I won't ever sell to anyone who cold-calls or texts for less than $1 million in cash. More would be better, of course. We would need to buy a new house, and I would want to lay down some cash for that. I'd want to purchase outright, of course. We are not getting any younger and another thirty-year loan seems illogical to me.

The same goes for you people who walk through neighborhoods knocking on doors. You didn't even bring cookies. Or wine.

Oh, you talked to some of my neighbors? Why do you need me to give you names of people on my street who might be interested then? Didn't the ones you just talked to tell you anything?

I know they didn't tell you I was interested. They've all been watching our house go through changes for the last eighteen years.

My God, I've lived in the same house for almost twenty years. I never thought that would happen!

Oh, did you think this was a site-built home with appreciation? Have you actually looked at this neighborhood?

This is a 1980-something double-wide modular home with some added space built onto it. The newest improvements are still in construction phase, and we clearly don't have central air conditioning. I point that out in case you didn't notice the mutiple small units sticking out of the windows.

There's no central heating, either, in case you wondered.

Excuse me a moment, that's my phone. I'm expecting a call…

Oh, it's just my good friend Potential Spam. I'll let it go to voicemail. You know, in case it's important.

We do have a fairly new roof, but that's only because we had hail damage and the insurance company took care of it for us.

Yeah, the house is ground-set, but there's no, you know, foundation. Would you like to take a look underneath? There's probably a scorpion or two under there. There are definitely a few feral cats.

I know it's a good sized lot. Almost a quarter of an acre. I'm lucky, and so would you be. That's all the more reason why you should give me at least $2 million in cash.

The neighbors a street or so away have a smaller lot, a smaller mobile home, and a pack of wolf-dogs. I bet that would be a selling point for you after you hand over that $3 million. I love the howling of the wolves whenever a siren sounds.

That's happening more and more as the city grows up around us.

Listen, it's time for you to go. First, let me tell you this, in case you don't understand what I've been trying to tell you. If I ever want to sell my house, I will call the realtor of my choice.

It won't be you.

Sorry, it's the phone again, this time it's a text. I better check. Bye!

"Hello, my name is Amy. I'm just reaching out to talk to you about your extended warranty."

Ugh!

Time for a cup of tea in the front garden.