One Man's Trash...

When we pulled up to the nasty house in Ballard one October day in 2013 for a second viewing, we noticed that the front door and windows were open. We deduced that our agent had gotten there before us, but couldn't puzzle out why he had opened the doors and windows.

"Don't open the refrigerator," Mike warned. "It has rotting food from god knows when--I almost vomited and had to escape out the back."

When we made the offer on our house, it was not technically a short sale. The house had been vacant for at least two years, but had not yet gone into foreclosure. We offered exactly what was owed, meaning the current owner would get nothing except freedom from the crushing weight of debt. In such a situation, it's difficult to negotiate. However, there was just one little point that we held firm on: "GET YOUR CRAP OUT OF OUR HOUSE, INCLUDING YOUR DISGUSTING REFRIGERATOR AND THE FOOD IN IT FROM TWO YEARS AGO." Our agent, a hilarious, slightly crusty gentleman who had been in the business for 30+ years, called the listing agent citing legal clauses about the house being free of personal belongings and fit for new owners. In the end, I suspect the listing agent paid out of his/her commission whatever small fee was necessary to have the junk hauled away. But, the stove didn't make the cut for haul-away and I certainly didn't want it.

Craigslist posting: "Free electric range and oven - you haul."

Will "free" be cheap enough?

I was surprised at how quickly I received inquiries about the stove and confirmed a pick-up for the next day. When I answered the knock at the door, I met a 5 foot tall, small framed Asian woman in her mid-40s. She rolled up in an old station wagon that was "parked" at an angle about five feet from the curb. Upon quick inspection of the stove, she confirmed that she'd like to have it. "We can help you load it," I offered, doubting that those teeny bones could handle the weight. "Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed.

I walked out with her to help ready the car for loading. "You might pull in a bit closer to the curb," I suggested, "to make it easier to load." She agreed and I watched as she pulled forward and then back, still five feet from the curb. "Maybe if you turn the wheel this way while you back up and then straighten it out," I offered. Up...back...still five feet away. "I have been driving for one year!" she carefully stated with a grin. I believed her, but I didn't believe that she held a valid driver's license. "Here. You do it?" She jumped out of the car, offering me the driver's seat. The car swayed with my weight as I got in. I quickly parallel parked and got back out. "Oooh! you're good at that," she marveled.

We opened the back to the trunk, which was full of random items. The lady pushed a few things aside, but it was clear the stove still wouldn't fit. Nick and I took over and moved random items to one side and positioned a large piece of cardboard to sit under the stove. We were able to JUST get it in and close the door. Our delighted customer thanked us and drove slowly away with her free stove in what was most likely her free car.