The Day I Went to an Open House....

Open houses are big here in SoCal.

They’re a great way for people to look for and buy homes.

On any given Sunday, you can see Open House signs with balloons on practically every corner.

A few years ago, when we were still looking to buy a house, one of those signs caught my eye.

It was in a neighborhood that Mr. Redoux and I really liked that had incredible ocean views.

So I turned into the neighborhood. (Mr. Redoux was away on a guy’s trip so I was on my own for this one.)

I followed the signs up a hill and around a corner to another sign with balloons and festive flags in front of a house.

I parked and got out of the car. It was a brownish two-story house. ‘Hmmmm…Not a great color. We would definitely have to paint it’, I thought as I walked up the front sidewalk.

I walked up to the front door, opened it and walked in. The agent didn’t greet me but I could hear them talking upstairs. It sounded like they were on the phone.

I called out

‘Hello!’

Nothing.

They just continued their phone conversation.

I looked around and noticed that the house was kind of messy. There was a purse on the bottom stair. (That must belong to the Real Estate Agent). Books and magazines were laying around in the family room. Dirty dishes were on the counter in the kitchen.

At this point, a man and his wife came through the front door behind me and started looking around too.

We all commented on the incredible view of the Pacific Ocean and the Channel Islands that we could see through the patio doors at the other end of the family room. ’Wow! look at that view’ the husband says. ‘This is great!’.

And he heads for the kitchen.

The wife and I are still standing in the entry. And she says to me ‘Well, they sure didn’t tidy up much for the open house, did they?’ ‘No they sure didn’t’ I said. ‘And the agent seems to be busy on the phone upstairs.’

We both kind of have this uneasy feeling…

Something just doesn't feel right…

Meanwhile, her husband is really checking out the kitchen.

He opens all the cabinet doors.

‘It’s got good storage!’ he yells back at us.

He turns on the faucet ‘And good water pressure!’.

The wife and I are still standing in the entry when it hits both of us…

I look at her, ‘I don’t think this is really an Open House!’

She looks at me, ‘I think you’re right!’

‘Geroge!! Get over here! We’ve gotta go!!’

George — ‘What…?’ (still not getting it…)

Wife — ‘this isn’t really an open house!’

George — ‘huh?’

And with that, we all scramble out the front door, hurry down the front walk, and jump in our cars.

As we’re driving away, the wife and I look at each other and just shake our heads and laugh.

We both knew that we had just committed one of the biggest social blunders of all time —

We had just walked up to some random stranger’s house, opened the front door and walked right in like nobody’s business!

I drove around the block and looked at the Open House sign again.

(You know, kind of like when you just stumble a little and you look back to see what tripped you?)

This time I drove past it and kept going up the street.

And there it was

At the very top of the street

Signs. Balloons. Flags.

And the front door was wide open.

This clearly was the Open House.

George and his wife had found it too

And they were heading up the walkway to go inside

But I just kept driving…

that first ‘open house’ we went to

was quite enough for me that day.