It was raining as we pulled up in front of an all brick colonial in the Ginter Park area of Richmond’s North side. The house looked promising from the outside, but brick ones usually do.
“Eb’nay, my hair is going to be a disaster after this if I have to wait for you to get the lock box open.” I say to Ebony, my agent.
“Char’tay,” we have our own language, “mine will be no better.”
“Do we both have to be ugly? I can’t open anyway.”
With a huff and an eye roll Ebony stomps to the door and I wait in the car. The reality of the matter is that if my hair is within the same zip code as a lawn sprinkler I will end up looking like Gene Simmons or Richard Simmons depending on my cut at the time. She can roll out of the bed into a hurricane and show up like she has been in the salon all day. The outcome was going to be the same. #frizzyhairdontcare
I see Ebony has the door just about open and I jump out and make a mad dash in to the door like a mother flipping ninja.
Just inside the door is another door. Expecting a coat closet I open it. NOPE!!! It’s a basement!!! A dark basement because the house has no power. Of course we whip out our phone lights and proceed down the stairs in our super loud heels. Clunk, clunk, clunk. #flippinghousesinhighheels
We use our lights to pan the basement from the bottom of the stairs.
“Eb’nay, does that look like feet in a sleeping bag behind that wall over there?”
“Why, yes, Char’tay. I do believe I have seen enough of the basement. Have you?”
We casually turn and clunk back up the stairs and then….Get this folks… LOCK THE DOOR. We lock the feet in the basement.
Retrospect commonsense thought: an ounce of reasonable insight would tell me that there quite possibly was either a dead body or a live person in there. Probably time to leave. Didn’t.
We went and explored the rest of the house. I'm all like, “We need to open the kitchen. This floor plan is really cut up. Is this a third floor? Do you think there is wood under….IS THAT A CHAINSAW?”
There was the sound of a chainsaw…IN THE HOUSE.
We ran out of the house exactly like a scene in a horror movie. Going the wrong way, can’t find the way out, down three flights of stairs. We rush out to the door and I get to the car expecting to get in. I look up and that flipping Ebony is at the front door locking it.
Girl!!! Don’t you know we just locked the North Side Slasher in that house???!!! Let’s go!!!
We rode silently to a local happy hour spot where we ordered two tall Absolute and sodas. Took a big sip and said “Well that was strange.”
This brings me to the two reasons I like to write blinds. First is that I am less likely to encounter a chainsaw yielding serial killer. Two it is just a more efficient way to write offers.
I have been called a lot of things in my life but the one that always comes up when I start talking about making blind offers is CRAZY. I must be nuts to suggest that you can make an offer on a property for which I have never seen. For those who have not heard this term, making a blind offer is writing a contract on a home before seeing it.
I do it all the time.
My realtor called me and said “A house just hit the MLS on N. 28th St in the 500 block for $10,000.” I know three things from this one sentence. 1. The house is in Church Hill about two blocks from Hill Café, a sought after area. 2. Based on the price, it needs EVERYTHING. 3. Every other investor in Richmond is putting their shoes on to go make an offer right now.
“Offer $15,751” I say. This is not a strange convo for me to have with my realtor. He knows That I am going to make that offer right when he calls me.
Did I get the house? Yes. Did I make money on it? Yes. About $65,000. Let’s look at how to write blind offers. For this you will need a realtor who is accustom to working with professional investors.
20-50 at a time. Put some music on, drink tea, coffee, or a little wine (emphasis on little, do not go write drunk offers and say I told you to), have a few snacks, and just enjoy the experience.
This method allows you to write 25 offers in a day rather than 4-5. You are able to get more contracts out and ultimately make more money. Which is the entire point, right?
Happy Investing My Real Estate Junkies!!!
I was born an entrepreneur. I am pretty certain that I was peddling passies in the hospital when the nurses left the room.All of the other kids in the neighborhood were riding bikes and playing with dolls I was selling jewelry out of a catalogue and creating a back yard consignment shop. At 21 I became a real estate investor and fell in love. This was/is/ and always will be my passion. I have been madly in love with flipping, holding, and writing offers on real estate that seem crazy for 18 years. Ladies and gents I am willing to share the love of my life with you. Maybe its polyamory maybe its jut because I can’t shut up about it. Either way I will be sharing every mistake I ever made and the lesson that came from it. I love questions. Please ask away!!!