That’s the hope, anyway.
Sometimes, alas, the sapling of love withers and dies. Pulling it up by the roots can occasion no end of problems, but the real-estate problem may be the one of greatest financial consequence.
Consider this: I walk into a home, escorting buyers. In the living room there are two pieces of furniture: a big-screen television and a lawn chair.
The bedrooms are empty, except for the master bedroom, where there is a bare mattress. In the kitchen, there are dirty dishes in the sink and half-empty takeout containers and beer in the fridge.
It’s a divorce, of course. Mom and the kids are gone. Dad got custody of the TV.
It would be funny if it weren’t so nakedly tragic.
I get paid to hear the stories that empty houses whisper. This house tells me not just about the divorce, but that the divorce isn’t a relatively smooth one. It hints that the house is in pre-foreclosure or is for sale by a judge’s orders.
It confides in the certitude of silence that my buyers can steal it for tens of thousands of dollars less than market value.
Together, the sellers own a valuable asset. But neither wants to see the other prosper from their past together. So, out of spite, they are deliberately sabotaging the sale of their home.
“I might lose out,” he growls at the big-screen TV, “but at least she won’t win!”
“He can go to hell with that TV!” she seethes from her new apartment.
This is a mistake.
Frankly, both of them should move out, leaving the home vacant. If one is to stay, then they should agree to leave the furniture behind – and clothes in the closets. I should not be able to tell that the sellers are divorcing.
It’s sad the marriage didn’t work out. But properly staging the home for sale can at least help to pay for a happier divorce.
Greg Swann says:
I wrote that 14 years ago for The Arizona Republic. What’s changed since then? More divorces. Wise listers eliminate signals of discount-sensitivity, defending the list price in every little detail.
September 12, 2020 — 11:56 am