Our home is on the market, which means that I usually have to play fugitive when the phone rings early in the morning. It's usually a realtor wanting to show our house, and despite my few hours of sleep from the night before (I work second shift and I also have a baby who hasn't been sleeping well lately), that means it's time for me to jump into the shower, tidy up the place as best I can, and get out the door. When a prospective buyer is here, it's best for him or her to imagine it as being as free of clutter as possible. The buyer should be able to walk in and see it as his or her own place. And the presence of the actual owner kind of gets in the way of that.
The only real problem we have had is that the company that calls us to give us the heads up is good about calling my wife (who is at school all day long), but not so good at calling me (who is usually working on a good case of bedhead during the day). So today, I get a call asking if someone can come by and show it at 11:45. The call comes to me at 11:40. There is no time to shower, make beds, wash dishes, etc. in five minutes so I ask if 12:15 would work. They say that they'll call the agent and tell him my wishes. I thank the nice lady, hang up the phone, and walk through the living room to go upstairs for a quick shower. Glancing out my window, I see two people walking up my drive, the realtor and the prospective buyer. Great!
Oh well. I throw on a ballcap, crate the doggie, and open the door for them. I welcome them in explain that I just got the call, and apologize for any unmade bed they may find. They're very courteous and apologize for the inconvenience, and I invite them to look around while I take a short walk.
But here's where the title makes sense. As I am walking in jeans, black t-shirt, Guinness ballcap, and no shoes down my street, I can't help but wonder: Is the prospective buyer Big Orange Michael? He looked a lot like him. He was wearing a Titans ballcap. Big Orange Michael is a Titans fan. But then, I am in Tennessee. Many people are. It's not the first time I have thought I've recognized a fellow blogger out and about. And I have been right before. But I just couldn't think of a cool, non-scary way to say to the man as we met again at the door ten minutes later, "Thanks for coming by. And by the way, do you have a blog?"