Entitlement in New Beginnings
- July 23, 2015, 5:51 p.m.
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- Public
When I first looked at my new place, I presumed the washer and dryer would come with it. The day before we closed, I did my preliminary walkthrough with my realtor to ensure that the requested repairs were completed. During my walkthrough, I noticed the washer and dryer were gone. No problem, I thought, I’ll just bring my own from my condo.
Coincidentally, that was the very same day my condo’s listing went online. As soon as I got to a computer, I emailed my realtor to remove “Washer & dryer included” from the disclosure. The very next day, someone made a purchase offer as I discussed in a previous entry. When they did their preliminary walkthrough yesterday and saw that the washer and dryer were gone, they immediately complained, so my realtor called me. I told her that I had requested their inclusion to be removed from the listing, and I even forwarded her a copy of the email.
As it turns out, even though I requested that change almost immediately, I didn’t do so immediately enough. My buyer/buyer’s realtor was able to print out the first iteration of that listing, so the current contract stipulates that my washer and dryer are to come with the condo. My options were to either reduce the price or return the appliances to the unit. I supposed I could back out of the contract. If I were a more business savvy person, I likely would. Not over a $200 used washer and dryer mind you, but my condo is already a serious bargain at the current asking price. I think I could get an extra $10,000 in due time. However, I have a lot to be grateful for, especially financially. Not that I can keep up with the Kardashians, but I have abundantly ample resources to more than fund my modest, yet comfortable lifestyle, so I feel that not breaking contract is the noble course of action.
So, I’m back to either reducing the purchase price or returning the appliances. If I take the former option, the buyers are going to want to knock off perhaps a grand so they can buy a brand new washer and dryer, which doesn’t make sense considering I bought these two units used for less than $200. By process of elimination, it looks like I’m going to have to find another used washer and dryer set on Craigslist to purchase.
I don’t mind the extra cost so much, and I’ll even get over the agony of having to haul those appliances up one more flight of stairs. However, my realtor told me something the buyers said that really grates on me. Apparently, they said that they needed my washer and dryer. I can’t capture it well in words, but the way she relayed the message to me sounded like they were obligated to those appliances out of necessity. I need a washer and dryer, too, dang it! I needed a W&D well over a year ago, when I scoured craigslist postings, acting fast to make sure I didn’t miss out when someone in my area posted his units for sale. I needed a W&D bad enough to rent a truck by myself, use a vacation day to pick them up, and accumulate a couple of years of wear-and-tear on my spine in one night lugging them up a flight of stairs by myself. Why should their necessity preclude them from all the effort I had to expend?
Upon hearing that phrase, I’m taken back to my junior year of high school. Believe it or not, I used to have potential as an artist. I quit doing it for a few reasons, one of which was exasperation with my classmates. So many people from classmates to relatives just expected me to make pictures for them. Yeah, it only costs as much as a pencil and a sheet of paper, but it also costs hours and hours of time for something they’re probably going to put in a desk drawer somewhere or possibly throw away. One of my classmates saw my portfolio, and he expected me to just give it to him…for nothing. He wouldn’t admit to it, but his intention was to erase my signatures on my drawings, sign my own, and present them to others as his work. I have no idea what he would have done when a class assignment required artistic ability and his group expected him to do it because of how well he had fooled them into thinking he could draw. However, I get the feeling he would have demanded I do the work for him.
After that, I flashed forward to my senior year. At my high school, seniors were assigned parking spots for the year. Underclassmen could drive to school, too, but they had to rent a parking spot for the day. Because of unique circumstances caused by my transferring to this school when I was a sophomore, I found myself in a history class with mostly 10th graders. When one of my classmates found out I was a senior and had a parking spot, she flat out asked me to give it to her…for nothing. She was a cheerleader, and she and her friends needed it for cheerleading practice. Excuse me while I barf. I wanted to tell her that there were plenty of times during my 9th, 10th, and 11th grade years when I needed a parking spot for some reason or other, but I made do with what I had or didn’t have, so she would have to do the same.
Then, I come back to the present. I wish they hadn’t have said it. I wish my realtor had just said that was the contract without relaying their attempt at emotional exploitation. I suppose I’m so aggravated because I have a tendency to emotionally exploit myself (see the latter half of my third paragraph). Most times, when street people approach me and ask for a handout with their tale of sorrow (“my car ran out of gas”, “my friend and I are stranded and need money for bus fare to get home”, “I was living with my buddy, and his girlfriend made him throw me out –some friend he is – do you have any spare change so I could get something to eat”), I look at their disheveled appearances, their worn shoes and ratty clothes, and I think of the quote by Jesus of “that which you do to the least of these, that you do unto me”, I feel compelled to give them the benefit of the doubt. However, when the person has over $80k in cash to spend on a condo, the “I need it” plea just brings my piss to a boil.
All that being said, maybe I honestly should see about backing out of the sale, then raising my asking price. Yeah, I should, but I won’t. I’m a schmuck.
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