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  • Writer's pictureLara Cox

Don't Sit on the Yellow Couch


When I first started in real estate eighteen years ago, I was showing property to a client. We had an appointment to view a townhome in a gated community. I'd been texting with the owner who told me her boyfriend would be there to let us in. When we arrived, I rang the bell. We could hear movement inside but no one came to the door. We waited a few minutes and then I texted the seller. She said she'd call her boyfriend and see what was what. A few minutes later, a flustered Boyfriend opened the door. Boyfriend stood to the side and we walked into the living room of the small home. It had a huge vaulted ceiling and stairs up to an open loft on the second floor. There was a fluffy yellow couch. There was a camera set up on a tripod. We looked at the kitchen and downstairs powder room. As we were heading up the long open staircase, we heard giggling coming from a closet. When we came back downstairs, two young ladies in very short shorts were chatting in the living room and boyfriend was quietly wringing his hands and looking chagrined.


When we walked outside, my client grabbed my arm.


"They were totally filming right before we got there, " she said.


"They were filming?" I asked.


"Yes, she said. "You know, filming."


"Ohhh." I said. I was so naive. It had not occurred to me until she said it, and then it seemed obvious. After that, anytime there was a delay opening a door, she'd give me a look and we'd laugh out loud.

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