The Front Yard...

More selling house stuff...

Yesterday was one of those days where I got up at that break of dawn, determined to get stuff done. Around 7am, I opened the garage, pulled out the hedge trimmers, and got to work on my front yard. The hedges in front yard were starting to resemble the French hedge rows of World War II, and I half expected a German soldier to ambush me.

As I trimmed and trimmed, I opened the doors to my truck and turned up the music (EPMD-Strictly Business got me hyped to cut everything in sight). I live in a very, very pleasant neighborhood in Inglewood, where folks manicure their lawns (actually, they pay for others to do that for them), grow their roses, etc. We're a "waving and smile" neighborhood, where our neighbors will always wave and smile at you if they drive by. I grew up about five blocks away from my house, and I'm definitely going to miss the sense of community. Everyone who saw me in the yard stopped to say hello, and were sad we were selling.

After the yard work (front yard only. The backyard azelea bush growing to the size of a alien comes later), I had a construction crew come over to give me an estimate on painting the house. The house looks fine right now, but an exterior painting would spruce it up. Dealing with anyone who you want to work on your house is fascinating to me. Absolutely fascinating. You have to somehow gain the customers confidence (without being a con man), and also close the deal as soon as possible so another guy won't come by and steal your customer. The guy was good, and as we walked around, he pointed out what he'd do. "I'll sand that, replace that, caukle that..." Then it was time for the estimate...

My friend went for the hard sell, trying to get me to sign a work order right then and there. I kept telling him that I was going to have three other contractors come in to give estimates, but of course, that just made him want to do the deal even more. He tried pulling out the paint color card and schmoozing with the wife (so he could go after her emotional response, therefore getting me to make a decision faster. Car dealers try to do this too by focusing on the stereotype that women buy on emotion (I like the color, the stereo) and men buy on price (I find that true, unless you're talking about a Ferrari. I want one, no matter the price). My wife wasn't biting.

After thirty minutes, I was finally able to get him to leave. But the guy IS good, so I think I'll go with him.