While contemplating the existence of Zombies on the weekend, I watched an interesting event unfold outside my front window. A minivan slowly slinked, stalker-style, up my street and came to a stop in front of my house.
Honestly, I have no reason to duck. Nobody is out to get me (that I am aware of) and we never experience drive-by's in our happy neighbourhood. But I ducked anyway.
Spying through my own front window, I watched a child of maybe 9 or 10 years jump out of the back and run up to my front door. I waited for the doorbell, but there was nothing but the eerie silence of my quiet neighbourhood. No blood-curtling screams of "Help! I'm being kidnapped!" or "Call Robocop!" Nothing.
A second later the small human ran back to the waiting van. The rear door slid shut and the van slowly drove away, turned the corner, and disappeared from view.
Eagerly wanting to know what that was all about I ran out the front door to try and see where the van went. But something stopped me. It was a note.
The note was typed on a regular piece of paper: "Wanted: 3-4 Bedroom Home In The
Based on the events I witnessed, this family seemed to be hand-delivering notes to only the houses they really liked. I watched them drive past plenty of houses larger than ours, so size did not appear to be the only factor.
This is now the fourth party to express interest in purchasing our humble abode since we moved in. (*The following sentence not intended to insult Realtors, especially Lela, Stan, Peter, Larry and Mark.) All of the interested parties wish to circumvent a Realtor, and thus avoid their high fees, stale coffee breath and annoying, pee-stained catch phrases.
But with four interested parties, two of which contact me on a fairly regular basis to inquire when we plan on moving, perhaps I can LAUNCH THE BIGGEST BIDDING WAR EVER! MUHUHAHAHA! Early retirement, here I come!