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Un-Real Estate – The Caravan From Hell

The Caravan From Hell

Yes, we have all had those caravans that were not exactly successful. But there reaches a point when a gal just wants to burn her license. My friend from Nelson Shelton told me a tragic story (hilarious to my sick mind, of course), about a Caravan gone so wrong that Right was just a burg in another galaxy. The agent had advertised, prepared a luncheon, purchased flowers, lit candles, and even said a few Hail Marys before getting her listing ready for the first Brokers Open.

Smoking Will Kill Ya!

The agent decided that a fire in the fireplace would be the final touch in setting the ambience. She lit the fire and went back to her food prep. When she smelled smoke, she realized that she had forgotten that little fireplace device called a ‘flue.’ The instant she opened it, something out of the depths of Hell flew past her face…something too dense to be smoke. In a moment of disbelief that could rival only a Hitchcock film, she looked up to see three bats overhead, freaking out from the smoke. Apparently they had taken the fastest path out of the chimney – the open flue – rather than the upper path to freedom. Or maybe they were just blinded by the smoke. The ratlike creatures were absolutely manic. She reckoned that the screams that were erupting from her prolapsed jaw were not helping matters.

Is There a Continuing Ed Course For This?

Being the brainy agent that she was, she grabbed a broom, opened the wall of French doors, and managed to scoot two of the flying vermin out of the house. Then came the showdown. The remaining bat hovered against a skylight, eyeing her coiffure with a taste for vengeance. In the nick of time, the first agent on caravan arrived at the scene of the disaster. Being the macho sort, he sized up the sitch, told the listing agent to grab a towel and stifle her screams, and then he mounted a chair. Carefully…oh so carefully, he grabbed the bat with the towel and ran for the door. By this time, he also was screaming like a girly-man. He threw the towel onto the patio, and waited for the bird to break free and head back to Lucifer’s den. The OK Corral had better results.

Some Visitors Just Can’t Take a Hint!

The bat had other plans. Its foot, or talon, or whatever those creepy things have attached to those vampire-like bodies, was stuck in the towel. It tried to launch itself, but the heavy towel kept the evil thing tethered. (Back off, PETA – no vermin was harmed in this rumble!) Now both agents were yelling as they helplessly watched the horror show. Soon a few more agents arrived (packing loaded business cards); and then the Police rushed in (armed with high-tech donuts, no doubt), having heard reports of screaming. Last to join the soiree was the seller, having been alerted at work by a neighbor who was sure a homicide had occurred in their normally tranquil neighborhood.

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Eight Heads Are Not Always Better Than One

The cop offered to shoot the bat. (Joking) The agents all vied to sell it a condo. (Half-joking) And the seller was pissed about the Egyptian cotton towel used for extrication purposes. (Not joking) Finally one brave cop, not content to wait for Animal Control because his coffee was cooling in the squad car, approached the weary bat. Reluctant to use his pepper spray on such a breezy day, the Man of Law shook the towel a few times as everyone scattered, screamed, and looked for a nearby bush where they could empty the contents of their stomachs. But no could drag himself away from the adrenalin rush. More agents arrived, too curious to keep driving after seeing the squad car. (Hey – cops are prospects, too!) Finally the bat, having had about all he could take of the noise and hysteria, broke free and escaped. Alas, no one was quick enough to get his email address.

Moral of the Story

(Yes, Virginia, We Agents Still Have Morals.)
Check fireplaces before burning anything, especially the Living Evil. Carry your own towels – you never know when you may need to soak up something nasty. If you ever have bats in a fireplace – or anywhere – be sure to get the bat pre-qualified for a loan. In this economy, everything breathing is worth your time.

Written By

I wear several hats: My mink fedora real estate hat belongs to Sotheby’s International Realty on the world famous Sunset Strip. I’M not world famous, but I've garnered a few Top Producer credits along the way. I also wear a coonskin writer's cap with an arrow through it, having written a few novels and screenplays and scored a few awards there, too. (The arrow was from a tasteless critic.) My sequined turban is my thespian hat for my roles on stage, and in film and television, Dahling. You can check me out in all my infamy at LinkedIn, LAhomesite.com, SherlockOfHomes, IMDB or you can shoot arrows at my head via email. I can take it.

10 Comments

10 Comments

  1. Elaine Reese

    March 20, 2009 at 7:40 am

    Well, I’ve heard funny Realtor stories, but this one is the best! I truly empathize with the agent as I grew up in an old home that had bats in the attic. Occasionally they would get into the home. We did the screaming as well.

    Loved your embellishments!

  2. Matt Stigliano

    March 20, 2009 at 8:38 am

    If you ever have bats in a fireplace – or anywhere – be sure to get the bat pre-qualified for a loan. In this economy, everything breathing is worth your time.

    I finished reading your post about 5 minutes ago. Thanks to the above quoted lines, I’m still laughing.

    Thanks Gwen.

  3. Austin Smith - Goomzee.com

    March 20, 2009 at 9:12 am

    Ahaha nice work!! You have a gift for embellishment…not too much, not too little.

    …”By this time, he also was screaming like a girly-man.”…

    Look forward to reading more of your stories in the future!

  4. Melina Tomson

    March 21, 2009 at 8:11 pm

    This was hilarious. I look forward to future installements…

  5. Vicki Moore

    March 22, 2009 at 4:38 pm

    Super excellent writing – what a hoot!

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