When Liquidation Goes Wrong: A Comedy of Errors
So after doing my due diligence and interviewing and selecting a company to finish the liquidation process, I thought I was on the home stretch. Finally, I could leave! But no, it wasn't going to be that easy. I hired the company with the contract stating that the house was to be empty after the sale. Whatever wasn't sold (like what wouldn't sell?) would be discarded by the company. I had no idea what they would do with it—nor did I care. I just needed to deliver the house vacant to my new tenants. And with me being thorough, I even had her write in that EVERYTHING would be removed before the first of the following month. I then left for Arizona for a week, since I couldn't be present during the sale. Which makes sense, as I think I would have tried to haggle with buyers who didn't see the value of all of my prized possessions... Anyway, I left and returned right on schedule.
The Plot Thickens
Upon my return, I was greeted by a scene that can only be described as a post-apocalyptic yard sale. The house? Still a third full! I half expected to see a family of raccoons setting up a lemonade stand in the living room. Apparently, 'everything' meant 'everything except the stuff we really don’t want to deal with'—which was basically my entire home gym, (That they said didn't work and I jump right on the treadmill and turn it on. Their excuse, well the lady that tried to test it out must have been too heavy...) my coffee and end table from my very first apartment-it was still in great shape! And so much stuff I just couldn't wrap my head around it. And the best part, wait for it, I walked in through the garage and found the owner nestled in my bed hugging one of my pillows taking a nap! Yep, you guessed it, the king sized bed was still there (that was being picked up later in the week).
What Happened Next?
The Great Couch Conspiracy: My down sofa was still there, but it was supposed to be picked up later in the week.
Uninvited Guests: I opened the fridge to find not only food that had seen better days-brought by the workers- but also a family of ants that had apparently moved in, claiming squatter's rights. However all the bottled water and Perrier were mysteriously missing.
Treasure Hunt: I discovered a box labeled “Miscellaneous” that contained everything from a broken toaster(that wasn't broken when I left) to a collection of spoons that I swear were once part of a national treasure hunt.
Lessons Learned
So, here I am, left with a house full of 'treasures' that I thought I was rid of. Apparently, when I said “everything,” I should have clarified that it includes everything not nailed down".
And as for the liquidation company? Let’s just say they might want to consider a career change—perhaps as professional nap takers, because no part of the contract was accomplished. With my help, I managed to get them to shove everything into the garage so my tenants could move in on time, but that’s just one of the setbacks in my grand adventure of “trying to leave.” Who knew leaving could feel like a game of Tetris where all the pieces are oddly shaped and covered in dust?
