One year ago today: August 6, 2014, good old Niel.
Five years ago today: August 6, 2010, on Ayn Rand.
Six years ago today: August 6, 2009, sheet music criminals.
MORNING
There’s my hard-working buddy standing in the back yard of the property this afternoon. It took us all morning to get out to Ft. Myers via alligator alley. We are getting used to the trip. And we now think nothing of zipping along Florida backroads, all designed to go nowhere by mouth-breathing idiot bureaucrats. There are no direct roads anywhere in the Florida interior. But from driving the sidecar, I can show you how to avoid the toll booths. You do not need to pay unless you are actually going to downtown Naples.
Yes, we found out what was wrong with the property. I believe I said “unless something unbelievable goes wrong”. It did. First of all, as the picture reveals, the alleged updated real estate ad on the web page used pictures that were taken around seven months ago. This is the yard today and the front is even more overgrown.
Yet, the ad was very factual and stated nothing that was in error. But it left out a lot. That's one reason I always as the seller if before I make arrangements for a viewing, “Have you told me everything that is important?”
Now, that question is a critical question, often, because the onus is on the seller. Because finding anything wrong with the property afterward that he knows or ought to know says a lot about his character. In this case, since it represented a 360 mile round trip, I also asked if the place was livable and if it was safe to live there. I understand people will lie about these topics and defend the lie by saying their lie is a judgment call. But I ask anyway. Good move.
NOON
We could not find anything wrong with the property. The hardwood floor was there, so was the jacuzzi. Shown here is our inspection of the bathroom in the master bedroom. You can see how the flooring has been replaced with new plywood, which was stated in the ad. And the repairs to the tub, with the new plumbing intact. There were two groups of people already looking at the property when we pulled up.
It was a deathly hot day and there were no services. We nosed around until they left and then we were in the attic and under the building in the crawl space. Still, we could not find what was wrong, although JZ did mention he could not find the main water valve. This turned out to be very important, even if I did tell him not to worry about it at the time.
So we locked the place up and went to the nearest café, and parked the truck. Since none of the other people had bothered to get dirty and get under the house, we figured they would also be too lazy to walk around the neighborhood. Smart fucking move. Staying in touch by cell phone, we walked a mile up and down every street until JZ called to say he had found “a big long motel with nobody living in it.” Huh?
Retrieving the truck, we drove to the place, just behind the railway tracks that were just in front of the house. You never guess what it was. And here is a perfect example of why you have to be careful in Florida. It is not marked on any maps, not listed in any directory, none of the locals will say a thing, and nobody is under any obligation to warn you. It was a prison farm.
I was on the phone within a minute, telling that real estate agent where he could stick his “safe” place to live. As usual, he maintained it was our responsibility to find these things out ourselves while he hid behind the phrase “due diligence”. I informed him that principle did not give him the right to lie and leave out critical details when asked direct questions. Like the ones I asked him the day before. Yes, he was Cuban.
NIGHT
Ah, but did I not mention the water pipe? Yes. I learned early by observing my family that there is no such thing as a person who only lies about one thing. We returned to the property and began knocking on doors. We found problem after problem, but the main puzzle was the lack of that water valve. There were two that looked like valves, but only fooled us for a moment. Here’s the horror story.
The house behind the property had been inhabited by the mother of the people who had been living in the premises we were inspecting. There was no water service. They had illegally run a water pipe over from the mother’s house and had been working off her city water meter for twenty years until they got caught. The city sent a crew in and removed the pipe.
So the people promptly (and equally illegally) ran a garden hose over to mom’s place. And they got caught at that, too. That’s when the place came on the market, seven months ago. Moving in would not only entail having a well dug (around a $3,000 immediate expense), it would also involve getting the permits to do so by a now thoroughly alerted and thoroughly pissed off City Hall.
The place, unrentable on that point, had been vandalized. Here is JZ looking at the side of the house where the entire cedar deck had been stolen. Note the deep weeds covering the ground. The building is sound, but would require just far too much work put in to ever get your money back by just living there. The vandals even cut the copper wire out of the walls and stole the dryer shown in the real estate pictures.
I made my decision that the seller was likely also covering up other deficiencies and we drove north to Punta Gorda for a tour. To make the trip not a total loss. I found a Marina with advertised great food and JZ and I went in for a great bite to eat. But I was upset over this episode, so much so that for the first time since I was a kid, I spilled my drink all over the front of my shirt. The only good news is how quickly we narrowed down what the hidden pitfalls were with the property. I warned the world three months ago that we would become sophisticated at this business by the time I finally buy anything.
We are back home, sadder, but mercifully just as rich as we started out this morning. Less the food and gas.
ADDENDUM
Later, I find out the guy before us did not bounce his check. Like the other people, he had not investigated the property adequately like we did, and had not discovered the missing water service until too late. Then he canceled the check. That, folks, is the wrong way to do business. He is very lucky to have caught it in time. And we are learning a lot about the lower end of the real estate market. You may think it is highly regulated, such as requiring the agents to take certain courses. But courses do not reflect moral character. Our colleges and universities are full of skunks.
Last Laugh
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