When I decided to sell my home, I did a FSBO. Unemployed at the time, I had been subletting since I'd moved in with Mr. Renov8or. My experience as a landlord was mostly positive. My tenants paid the rent on time and in exchange, when something was wrong I jumped to fix it. That's the social contract, right?
I'd never been a landlord before. And here I was tackling another first by selling the place myself. I put it on the market in May and a week later found my listing had been written up on Curbed: Charming Carroll Gardens 1BR Seeks $550K in FSBO Attempt. Hmmm... that word "attempt" gave me pause. I was surprised at the number of commenters conjecturing on the market value of my place as well as my decision to sell it myself. They ranged from very complimentary about my decor to, well... the usual hater trolls that you expect find in open comments sections. But I was pretty psyched to see my place covered on one of my favorite local home sites. I was itching comment back that I was already in contract at the asking price after one just open house that received multiple bids—which I was. And that the buyer waived contingencies. (Take that, haters!)
Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, is red hot. A combination of factors: nice old housing stock, low inventory, zero land left to develop, and a new influx of foreign buyers (now that the French magnet schools opened). However, I know the real clincher was the 400 square foot private backyard. I had the chance to quiz the open house visitors and most were dog owners—and we are one of the few co-ops in the neighborhood that allow dogs.
As a landlord, I had also allowed dogs—though I came to regret it. The day before the closing, as I was doing the walk through with the new owner we learned together my former tenants' dog had apparently left puddles on the hardwood floors. I hadn't noticed when I was doing the open house, because they'd covered them up with rugs. Anyway, the wood was blackened in several prominent spots in the living room. You might think a person could just have the floors sanded and refinished, but that wouldn't have fixed them. (Read: Repairing Pet Damage to Hardwood Floors.) It was pretty embarrassing to discover the damage with the new owner standing by. However, he was cool about it after I offered to turn over their security deposit to him.
I felt a twinge of regret as I turned the key in the lock for the very last time, but I knew my old bachelor-girl apartment is in good hands when the buyer said, as we were leaving: "Do you think I could drop a hot tub in that deck?" I was like: "That was my first thought when I bought the place!"
I'd never got around to it, what with dire conditions in the kitchen and bath. But I liked to think of the new guy carrying on the needed renovations.
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