Nevertheless. People are pretty dang pleasant. They smile, make good eye contact, have firm handshakes, say "Please" and "Thank you" and generally observe personal space conventions.
So when you encounter Bermtopian Bad Behavior, it can leave you quite breathless. . .
We've been hanging around the neighborhood a bit this year and thought "Why not?" this could be the lifestyle compromise we were looking for in terms of cutting loose from the Nine-One-Four. Let's do this!
And so we made an appointment for 2 p.m. after The Agent (TA) told me that a 4 p.m. appointment, a time more amenable to my work schedule that day, wasn't acceptable because he didn't like to "go out that late."
Perhaps that should've been our first clue.
My date and I arrived at the appointment venue, quaintly called The Nest, at 2 p.m.. A mildly startled receptionist texted TA we had arrived.
Tick tock. Tick tock. 2:10 p.m. We study a map the community's master plan.
Tick tock. Tick tock. 2:15 p.m. My date and I review our "wants-and-needs" list that we would share with TA.
Tick tock. Tick tock. 2:20 p.m. TA meanders in with Clients in Tow (CIT), gives us a vaguely dismissive hand wave and sits down to review the CIT's property options. We are rewarded with a somewhat apologetic side glance from one of the CIT.
I think you can see where this is going.
Tick tock. Tick tock. 2:30 p.m. TA will see us now. "So what are you looking for at said HPURED?" he asks, we poise to tell and then don't. Our "wants-and-needs" is hijacked by TA as he interrupts us to say everything is currently sold out.
Duly noted, TA. But we're not going away.
Tick tock. Tick tock. 3:00 After a lengthy presentation about the development involving flying ball point pens, diagrams equal to the invasion of Normandy and one worn colorful brochure, TA takes a breath and we are able to give him our wish list and price point.
* sound of crickets *
It became very clear our price point is a bit more modest than his. . . as evidenced by the now complete lack of engagement.
Which was marginal at best to begin with.
Tick tock. Tick tock. 3:05 "So let's go see some town homes!" says the TA, hungrily watching his co-workers cackling over something online. I do. not. even. want. to. know.
And then the office door opens and a voice over our shoulders says,
"Hi, TA. We were having lunch next door and thought we'd stop in and say 'hey'."
And thus began, I kid you not, a 10-minute conversation -- over our heads -- between TA and Farmer Say Hey about his selling 65 acres of land so they could move to HPURED.
About 5 minutes into the selling of the first 30 acres, I turned to my date and he turned to me -- me eyebrows raised to the ceiling, my date's eyes dangerously narrowed -- we arose and walked out on TA. We left behind a few chosen words.
We calmed down courtesy of great customer service and a glorious hummus at Central Food. That was nice. And took HPURED off the table of future domiciles.
Full disclosure: Monday, we receive an email
"We are no longer interested. Please remove us from your email list."