Yesterday as I was chatting with the tile guy at the former home of Dave’s Used Car Lot, Marina, and Weed Arboretum (recently foreclosed upon, bought out of auction for $162,500, and resold to a flipper for $192,500), up comes a perky blonde Realtor. She was meeting a buyer there to eyeball the place.
Asked what they hope to get for the place, she showed me a listing sheet: $269,900.
Well. That’s not a disaster, all things considered: if they get $260,000 for it, the value of my house (relatively) at least will not drop below what I paid for it four years ago. My place certainly won’t sell for anything near $300,000 anytime soon (it was valued as high as a giddy $375,000 during the bubble), but at least I’m not going to go broke. Yet.
Really, as long as the new resident is not another biker, another furniture-flinging berserker, or another slob, the trade-off will be worth it. Cleaning up that pigpen across the street transforms this part of the neighborhood. If the place stays halfway decent, I can get rid of some more of the shrubbery designed to screen my front windows from the view of Dave’s hovel, which will improve the looks of my place considerably. And over time, without the drag of that run-down property, values should improve. If nothing else, at least the street is now a more pleasant place to live!