She's Baaacccckkkkkk

Jack--remember him?--has e-mailed me about four times in the past two months. Apparently there is some real estate agent in Birmingham who has a client who wants to buy my Grayson Valley home. The agent had gotten Jack's number because Jack had sold us the home (he was also part owner until he bailed on us last year, but I digress). Would I please just call this guy and get him off Jack's back?

The house in question is very nice. It is red brick, on a golf course and is currently rented by that crazy lady who did not want to pay me rent for two months and managed to find my phone number, call me at work and had me chew her out for being a thief. It is one of my favorites, and though I am still puzzled why Jack jumped ship, Marty and I are doing well with it right now.

I did call the agent Tuesday. Apparently this woman has been calling him non-stop for several months and saying she wanted to buy this home.

"Why this home?" I asked the agent.

He did not know.

"I have a tenant in place right now. It isn't exactly for sale."

It was a rental? That was news to him.

"Is it possible it is the tenant calling you?" I asked.

"No, this woman is black." the agent replied.

Let's all pause, roll our eyes and take a trip back to pre-1964 Birmingham. Shall we? 

"Though I have only spoken to her once, I believe my tenant may be African American," I said. 

The agent was nonplussed. Looking up her name, he told me her unusual first name was the same as my tenant's unusual first name. The last names were different, but my tenant's middle initial is the same as what this agent had down as a last name. She also in the same type of business as that of my current tenant.

"Is it possible my tenant is calling you asking you and asking you to represent her?"

The agent didn't concede, but thought perhaps he might want a longer conversation with her tomorrow to see what her intentions are. My guess is it is the same sociopath who is up to some different weirdness.