What I Will Say in Response (see last post)

Dear Realtor-Bitch,
Sorry that I can’t use your name, but I don’t know it. I only know that you took someone to see my house, or looked at it yourself, and then wrote my realtor a nasty note about my house.
That is more than enough for me to know, although I would like to see that note and if I do then I will certainly include a copy with the cc of this letter that I will be sending to your supervisor, as well as the head of the branch you work for and the president of that company. Unlike you, I will be cordial as I can in my writing.

As a realtor, you ought to know better than anyone that a house, especially a first house, represents many kinds of dreams for an individual. You also ought to know that after they live there, that house is now permanently etched into them inside. That they carry tens of thousands of memories of that house and anything that happened in it. And without ever meeting me, or asking about the improvements being made, or even took a good look around at the 1.25 acres surrounding it, with the creek and the grapevine and barn wired with electricity, at the trees that will be lush in spring and summer and brilliant with color in the fall, you took pen to paper and wrote a poisonous, insulting summary of what YOU think of it, and you actually sent it. You hoped that the owner of this home would read those words or hear of them, and feel ashamed and hurt.

What is wrong with you that not only would you set out to deliberately be cruel, but that you would do it in a manner involving your profession? If I was as cruel as you are, I could get your license taken away easily. I am bipolar and I will tell them that your letter sent me over the edge and I tried to kill myself over it. Bipolar always wins in court, and you know it.

Or do you? Did you know at all that a single white girl and her dog lived in that house alone, twelve hours away from her parents and any kind of family? That she had so many dreams for it, but they turned out to be bigger than her, and she had to go. That she knew every imperfection but appreciated the good. I bet you also didn’t know that because the house is old and solidly built, that my gas and electric bills were sometimes half what my friends’, in their "newer, NICER homes" were. You didn’t look at the hardwood floors or appreciate the old cast iron hooks on the backs of the doors. You just never once stopped to think that a human being LIVED here, who worked hard and had terrific friends, and who LOVED this house, and only wants someone else to love it. No, it was more important to you to wrinkle your nose, and find every flaw, and then gleefully throw it at someone. I’m wondering the flaws you found. Is it the new linoleum on the floors that aren’t wood? Is it the new sink and fixture, or fresh paint? Maybe it bothers you I had the basement walls newly resealed, or that the rotted trim was about to be replaced and all the trim given a nice white coat of paint.

When you mock someone’s HOME, when you fire off distasteful, rude letters to them, you are insulting someone’s dream and someone’s memories. You are insulting their selection, insulting what THEY like (because guess what, Ms. Bitchy Boots, not everyone is like you, a frozen, plastic, curdled with meanness piece of plastic), what THEY want and believe in. Maybe you could insult my clothes, while you’re at it, or the car I drive and where I went to school! I’m sure if you looked long and hard enough you could find manymanymanymany flaws about me. Call my recent ex-boyfriend, he’ll help you. He’s got a nice long list. In fact, you two should totally hook up - he said I should just let the Fire Department pay me $500 to control burn the house and start over. Wouldn’t you two get along GREAT? And he wants Botox, so I’m sure he’ll appreciate yours.

Well, I now see that I am being as mean as you but the difference, honey, is that you ASKED for it. I never did a single damn thing to you and nobody even made you go look at my house. Stay away from it, or I’ll curse it to fall on you.

I still am so shocked that people really are as bad as they say, that you would write such a thing and take joy in it. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, and the realty world ought to be ashamed of YOU. You are the one with the ugly, ripped, worn-down problems, not my house. Deal with what is making you so awful and leave my property alone.

Sincerely,

name, owner of ADDRESS, in Durham, North Carolina.
Friend of lawyers and deviants.