People will do anything for a thrill…
A few weeks back, I read an article in the paper about an incident at a Toronto open house on weekend.
The listing agent, at about 4PM, was closing up the open house, and heard footsteps upstairs. He went to the upper level and found a couple having sex in the upstairs bedroom!
“House Humping” seems to be a growing trend, now that “The Mile High Club” has lost it’s lustre.
Here are my top three sex-related real estate stories…
(reader discretion STRONGLY advised!)
#3: “Victoria’s not-so Secret…“
A few months ago I went with my client, Petr (names have been changed to protect anonymity), to see a unit at 230 King Street which also happens to be my building.
It was a small unit of about 500 square feet, with parking, for $259,900. The unit faced west, overlooking Sherbourne, and had a very small balcony.
I know, I know….GET TO THE STORY ALREADY!
So we perused the unit, paying special attention to the kitchen and the living room, and then we noticed the bedroom door was closed.
I opened the door to find……
Panties, panties, and more panties.
For some reason, there was a king-sized bed—encompassing the entire bedroom, that was made up with a lovely white duvet, and on top of the duvet were about 40-50 pairs of panties.
They were laid out in rows, not recklessly tossed about, and seemed to be carefully placed yet the array stopped short of being organized by color, make, or style.
There were thongs, full-backs, dutch-cuts, and hip-huggers…
Satin, silk, lace, leather, and cotton…
Pink, black, red, green, and white…
Sequins, hearts, kisses, and stars…
I stood there, completely astounded! Meanwhile, Petr was also astounded as he looked at the framed 8 x 10 photo of the person who lives there…
Now, I’m a normal guy, and I own probably 15 pairs of underwear. What the heck is this woman (presumably, HOPEFULLY a woman…) doing with FIFTY pairs of underwear?
I just couldn’t comprehend how the owner could miss the fact that an appointment was scheduled for today at 6:30PM, and leave the room in this state!
But then, I looked at the MLS listing under “occupancy,” where all our answers could be found: TENANT.
It all made sense.
A tenant was living here, and the owner had put the condo up for sale, giving the tenant 60 days notice to vacate the premises. The tenant, clearly upset with the owner of the unit, decided to have some fun with the prospective purchasers, and thus the reason for her astounding array of undergarments displayed in plain sight.
My client, Petr, was so distraught by our findings, that he quit his high paying job in the finance industry, and has since found work with Victoria Secret…
#2: “The Door is Open…”
This story didn’t actually happen to me, but it’s a good one nonetheless. It’s the kind of story where at the end, you say “A story like that has GOTTA be true,” rather sarcastically. Well, you’ll just have to take my word for it.
An agent in my office, who we’ll just call “Jim Manly” was a very young, very eager real estate agent about fifteen years ago. Jim was, and still is, a very attractive man. To put it quite simply, he is a very sexy, sexy man, and I say this with one-hundred percent confidence in my heterosexuality…
Twenty years ago, before Jim was in real estate, he did some male-modelling. I’m not sure if he crossed paths with the likes of Derek Zoolander and Hansel…
Jim was also an avid door-knocker, and that’s how he got most of his business. He went door-to-door, introducing himself, and using his charm and good looks, he found it easy to meet and greet home-owners and pick up a few leads here and there.
One lovely spring day, Jim was door-knocking in a townhouse complex in midtown. He rang the first buzzer:
“Hello and good day! It’s Jim Manly from Bosley Real Estate, how are you?”
“We’re not selling. Thanks.”
“Ooookay then have a terrrrific day!”
Jim proceeded to the next 3-4 doors, and encountered the same greetings.
Then he rang the last buzzer:
Huh? Come again? Jim didn’t even introduce himself, yet the person on the other end of the line knew it was him.
“Uhhh…..hi. It’s Jim Manly from Bosley Real Est….”
“Come on up Jim, the door’s open!”
Jim turned the knob, and the door was indeed open. He proceeded up the stairs, taking each step very slowly as he pondered this predicament he currently found himself in. Is this a joke? Does she just happen to have a security camera?
Jim reached the top of the stairs, and found himself alone in the living room of this magnificent townhouse.
“Hellooooooo?” Jim asked aloud, not quite sure what he would find.
“I’m in here,” said a voice from the bedroom.
Jim paused in the middle of the kitchen. He looked left, right, up, and back. He had no idea what he was doing here, or what was going on.
He proceeded down the hall and to the closed door of the master bedroom.
He put his hand on the door handle…
And slowwwwwwly turned the knob….
And there she was.
Laying on the bed dressed a red neglege was a 45-year old woman with the self-described youth and beauty of somebody only 44. She reclined on one elbow as if there was a professional photographer telling her how to strike the sexiest pose possible, and her other arm lay gently across her leg.
“Hi Jim,” she introduced herself. “I’m Cynthia.”
“Jim, I’ve been getting your flyers and advertisements every month for the last year. I have a small collection in my kitchen. I always knew one day you’d come knocking on my door. You are soooo much sexier in person!”
Jim was married, with one small child at home. So he did what 100% of married men do when presented with a sexy, experienced, older woman who wants to defile you….
…..he ran out.
Jim ran like Carl Lewis at the 1988 Summer Olympics, and even did the long-jump over the front lawn. He sprinted right up the street to his car, nearly broke the key in the lock as his hand was trembling so hard, and drove straight home to see his wife.
Or at least that’s how he finished the story…
#1: “When the Cat’s Away, the Mice Will Play….”
About two years ago, I was taking my buyers through Leaside showing them houses in the $1,000,000 range, and we happened upon a very unique house on Rolph Road.
This house had been featured in the “Life” section of the Toronto Star for it’s design and it’s “Hollywood” theme. The house wasn’t quite a duplex, but it had been split into two sections for the children and the parents. On one side of the house was the master bedroom and study, and on the other side of the house were three bedrooms for the three teenage children. In between, there was a very thick concrete wall to give the two areas distinction and privacy, and they were accessed by two separate sets of staircases.
I got the key from the lockbox outside the house, and my clients and I proceeded through the foyer and into the kitchen. We turned the corner into the breakfast nook and were startled to find a young girl eating her breakfast.
“Yipes! Hi….um….who are you?”
“Oh sorry, I didn’t know anybody was home! I’m David Fleming, from Bosley Real Estate. I have an 11:00AM appointment to show the house.”
“Oh really? Geez, I didn’t get any calls about any appointments! Sorry, I wasn’t ready, but I’m leaving anyways. I have to get to work.”
No harm, no foul. Usually, the real estate office representing the sellers will call and inform them of the day’s appointments, but in this case, something was lost along the way.
The young lady proceeded to the back door, and then stopped and added: “You know…..I think my sister may be home, but I’m not sure.”
We thanked her, and she proceeded on her way.
I took my clients through the living and dining rooms, and we surveyed the entire main floor.
We proceeded up the staircase, and that’s when I heard it:
I wondered what that was, but made nothing of it.
John marvelled at the fantastic crown mouldings while Jill pointed out the lovely runners on the staircase. I was about 6-8 steps ahead of them when I heard:
There was a distinct rhythm, and it was getting faster.
We proceed further and further up the stairs.
“Oh look John, is that real gumwood-trim?”
“Well I don’t know Jill. What do you think, David?”
I wasn’t thinking about gumwood-trim, that’s for sure! I was thinking that something was going on upstairs, and as I reached the landing, and put my hand on the doorknob for the first bedroom, I sure wasn’t prepared for what I was about to find.
I had the bedroom door open about an inch before I heard a shreik, a gasp, and the sound of bodies and covers flying! You know in a cartoon when a dog and a cat fight, and they just show a cloud of dust with the odd hand, foot, or tail sticking out? That’s what this was like, as two people were flung into action trying to cover themselves up.
I closed the door.
“David, do you think this staircase is original?” My clients had no idea what had just happened, and more to the point, what was about to take place.
The bedroom door opened, and a very young, very smitten girl of no more than 16 or 17 years old came out and greeted me in a bathrobe. Her cheeks were red from embarrassment (or something else?) and her pony tail was affixed to the side of her head.
“Oh, hello,” she feigned. “I didn’t know there were any showings today!”
I should certainly hope not!
“Let me just walk across the hall, and I’ll be out of your way,” she informed us. She had a very mature sense about her for somebody her age, and for somebody who had just been caught red handed. Well, caught by me at least, as my clients STILL had no clue what was going on.
The young girl proceeded down the hallway, and down to the kitchen. I then reached for the doorhandle, completely forgetting that the second act of this show was about to start.
The door flung open, and I was greeted with:
Was that a question, or a statement? A boy of about 17 or 18 years old, with no shirt on, a sideways ballcap, and with his boxers sticking out of his baggy jeans that hung about six inches below his waist, proceeded out the door.
“Yo!” he said to my rather reserved 40-year old laywer of a client.
“Hrmmmm…..indeed,” said John.
The boy proceeded across the hall, and down the stairs, and I proceeded with my clients to the second bedroom.
“David, is there any way to enlarge this walk-in closet?”
Holy heck. My clients had no idea that these two kids, whose parents spend six months a year working out of California, were just up-to-no-good on a Sunday morning in the midst of the impending sale of their million-dollar Leaside home. I couldn’t believe the situation and fallout we had just avoided.
Jill pointed to a photo on the wall. “Oh look, John, what a lovely family portrait!”