On Thursday, I stepped out of the flat to take the garbage out and ran into a group of people clustered at the end of the corridor. They said they were looking at the flat on the fourth floor, which apparently is on the resale market, and wanted to know if the neighbourhood was quiet. In particular, they were concerned about noise from the ground floor because the guy who lives there is some kind of religious medium and they wanted to know if there was chanting noise and that kind of thing.
No noise at all, I answered. They also politely asked, since they were outside my door, if they could peek in and take a look at the flat's layout.
Of course they could. They weren't the first. The flats here are rapidly coming up on the resale market and L had previously let a couple in to have a look-see. He ran into them when he was walking Queeni and they had asked him about the neighbourhood. Maybe next time, we should charge entry fees for flat viewing. :)
There were about five or six people and I was mentally trying to sort out who was the flat buyer (easy, the old lady who asked me how much I paid for our flat and when I bought it -- obviously comparing prices) and who was the agent (I think it was the friendly chatty guy who said if I, immediately upstairs from the medium, wasn't bothered by noise, then they, four floors up, shouldn't have any problem). He also recognised a Schnauzer when he saw Queeni despite her lack of the Fu Manchu beard. There were also relatives/friends brought along for their opinion, I think, because one lady kept comparing the layout of our flat to hers.
I think if the agent cinches this sale, he should pay us a royalty. When the would-be buyers asked about amenities, we pointed out the two train stations, both within an easy 5-minute walk and the mall, also within a 5-minute walk, and that it had a supermarket, library, department store and also the requisite Starbucks, Pizza Hut, KFC and McDonald's.
Rupert was very enthusiastic about the visitors. Queeni was less so, especially when they peeked into the bedroom (L was conducting the tour and was explaining to them that the bedroom door is not its original position, that we had knocked down a wall forthat, and pointed out where the original wall was -- see, we work for the entry fees). She gets very protective of the bedroom as our, excuse me, *her* denning place. And so she started barking. And barking. And wouldn't stop barking.
I think we're the noisy ones in this block, not the guy downstairs.
Hmm. So if the agent doesn't close this deal, then it's also our fault.