As suspected, The House has two other offers on it. Unfortunately, the two other offers are for list price AND closing costs. The highest I can go is list price with the seller paying closing costs. So, my offer will almost surely get rejected.
My dad suggested that I write an email to the seller to express my appreciation for the house and the work that went into it. Personally, I think that this is kind of psycho. Then again, if there’s something you can do…maybe you should do it? Even if it probably won’t make a damn bit of difference? I decided to let Real Estate Lady make the decision about whether this is a completely insane idea. This is what I sent:
I realize that this is kind of a “psycho girlfriend” thing to do, but I wanted to send an email to express how much I hope that you’ll go with my offer on this house. I know that you probably have two other offers for more money, but I just don’t have four thousand more dollars to cover closing costs. I wish I did; I wish I had ten thousand more dollars to offer, but I just don’t. Since you’re not turning this into a bidding war, I’m hoping that this isn’t solely about money for you. That hope is the same hope that led to writing this email. I don’t have four thousand more dollars, but I do have a ton of appreciation for the amount of work that went into this house.
I’ve already, somewhat accidentally, spent three days picturing my clothes in that huge closet in the master bedroom. The smaller closet? Shoes and crinolines. I’ve spent three days picturing my piano in the dining room, and picturing myself sitting there playing, lapping up the echo that bounces off the deliciously shiny floor. I’ve already pictured white wooden blinds on the living room windows and my cat figuring out how to jump up on the mantle. I’ve already pictured a little pedestal in the alcove that connects all of the rooms. I’ve already pictured myself cutting out dress patterns in bedroom two. I’ve already pictured a shower curtain hanging from the ceiling by decorative chain so as not to be wedged up against the window. I’ve pictured myself cooking tofu in the kitchen and being able to sequester the cat’s litter box in the laundry room. I’ve pictured my friends drinking beers on the patio and swinging on the swing set (you know they would) before heading to the out building for a photo shoot. I’ve thought about the decorative uses of the former window bars that are stashed in the out building.
I’m trying to pretend that the house had been priced in the 120’s, where it maybe should have been. I’m trying to pretend that I never even saw it. Unfortunately, it’s a bit like trying on a dress, seeing that it fits you perfectly, and then finding out that it wasn’t really supposed to be on the sale rack. It’s hard to walk away like you don’t care. You can’t always get what you want, but it doesn’t mean that you can’t try.
Thanks for your time,
Amy (last name)