Messin’ With Unsolicited Solicitors
Or, A Conversation With a Man Who Tried and Failed to Buy My Property By Randomly Texting and Calling Me
Recently, a man named Chris started texting me out of nowhere trying to buy property. I thought he was a bot at first, and I was bored, so I decided to mess with the bot, and see where it went.
Turns out it wasn’t a bot. It was Chris. This is what transpired.
Then he called!
CHRIS: “Hello, this is Chris… I was trying to find out more about your property, you know, to buy it.”
ME: “Ah, yes. Hello Chris.”
“So, like… what exactly are you selling? I didn’t really understand the texts.”
“Ok, it’s one square foot of my yard, my land, for $250,000. And that includes a certificate of lesser nobility.”
“Wait… it’s one square… no, hold on. Ok, let’s back up. This is your yard? Front or back?”
“Eh, front, definitely. I don’t use it as much, so I’m willing to part with a piece of that.”
“And what part exactly?”
“Just… one square foot, right adjacent with my neighbor’s yard.”
“For how much?”
“$250,000. Or that’s about 10 pounds of gold in today’s market, if you prefer. Many nobles do.”
“(Chuckling nervously) So your yard for $250,000?”
“No, just one square foot. But keep in mind this DOES include — I will photoshop for you — a certificate of lesser nobility.”
“A certificate? Of what? I don’t know what that is.”
“Ok, so, I purchased a small parcel of land in the UK, which happens to be owned by a noble, a Lord. In doing so, I legally became a Lord in my own right, under him, but a Lord nonetheless of that parcel of land. I have a very nice document which certifies me as Lord Brian, Scion of the August House of Shef. That’s a title of nobility.”
“Uh huh…”
“So by the transitive property, when you buy this land from me, a Lord, you become a lesser noble under me.”
“But what does that — I just… Ok, so you’re this… something. And I get to be something, too? What?”
“Yeah. You can be like, a viscount, or a knight, really any title. Nobody in the US really knows the hierarchy well so you could get away with anything. It’s your land, doesn’t bother me what title you choose.”
“(Laughing loudly now) Ok hold on, are you serious right now?”
“I have my documents. It literally says, Lord Brian, Scion of the August House of Shef, has my noble family crest on it and our family motto…”
“Well, uh, ok, but, back to the land… you’re selling… just one square foot?”
“That’s right.”
“For $250,000?”
“Or better offer, yeah.”
“No! Why… why is it that much? Because of the title thing?”
“Well the title is a big deal, relatively few people have that.”
“Ok, I think I see what’s happening now. It’s the title. What is the title worth by itself?”
“Like I said, it’s a big deal. You get to boss peasants around, wear fancy clothes, you get the title, like anywhere you use your name people have to use your formal title…”
“No no no no no, in terms of money. How much is the title worth, and how much is the land worth?”
“Money? No, the title isn’t worth money. Its value lies in the feudal system.”
“The feud — I just — sir are you just messing with me? I need to know if you’re serious right now or if you’re messing with me.”
“I am being perfectly honest with you.”
“Ok, so let’s stop messing around with the title. You’re asking $250,000 for a single square foot, a FOOT, of land. That’s a lot. That’s not normal. What’s… what’s ON the land?”
“(Looking out window) Erm… Some grass… Leaves… Moss… No crops yet.”
“(Exasperated sigh) You’re yanking my chain. This can’t be real. Tell me right now are you seriously trying to sell me your property?”
“Yes! I will seriously make this sale with you.”
“Ok if you think one square foot is worth $250,000, what about the rest of your property? The whole thing? How much would you sell the whole property for?”
“Oh no no no no, I can’t sell the whole property. This is my home. I live here. Where would I go?”
“You just buy another — ! LOOK! Do you even understand that $250,000 is way too much money for a square foot of yard?!”
“But that’s how much I’m selling it for.”
“WHY?! Why $250,000 — a quarter of a million?! It doesn’t make sense! WHY?!”
“Chris, I could do so many things with that money! Put the kids through college… Get a nicer car… Probably some snacks…”
“(Laughing hysterically) Look that’s perfectly fine! Yes! You want $250,000, ok, fair enough, but are you being serious about the property?”
“Dead serious, Chris. I will sell you that square of noble land and together we shall rule the neighborhood as Lord and Vassal Lord! And I shall be able to afford — “
“NO! You — You don’t get it, dude! I might consider $250,000 for the whole property, the whole house, if it’s really worth it, but nobody just buys a square foot of yard! That’s not real estate!”
“You sounded like you really wanted it, though. All the texts, this phone call, all this effort…”
“(Voice shaking in pure anger) Y-y-you know what I think?! You’re a dumb… A dumb… An ass… A dumbass. A dumbass is what you are! You’re such a… dumb… ass!”
“Whoa, Chris, that’s really unfair. Is it wrong to want to make a profit here? Is it wrong to want to put my kids through college? Is it wrong to want a better life for my family?”
“NO! BUT YOU’RE BEING A DUMBASS! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”
“I was but now I dunno if you’re worthy.”
“( Aneurysms don’t make a sound, per se, but I could tell he’s having one at this point. Voice is high pitched and shaky and he’s physically struggling to get every word out. ) You’re… fuck! You’re… a dumb… fuck… ass… dumb… fuck… dumb… ass… you’re fucking…. you’re… ass…!”
“Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, Chris. Chris. That’s LORD Dumbass.”
“…WHAT?!”
“Yeah, remember? I’m literally a Lord. You will address me as LORD Dumbass. We must be formal.”
“SO DUMB! SO DUMB! THIS IS — YOU ARE — DUMB!”
“Look, man, I’m not the one just texting people out of the blue unsolicited and then cold-calling them without permission asking for the land. That seems WAY more dumb than being a member of the landed nobility no matter how you slice it.”
“YOU’VE WASTED SO MUCH OF MY — ! YOU’RE. A. DUMB. ASS. AND. I. HOPE. YOU. DIE. IN. A. FIRE. FOR. BEING. DUMB. ASS. FUCK. FUCKING. ASS. DUMB. FUCK!”
“Do you feel better, now? Like, about yourself? Having said that sentence out loud to a noble on the phone?
( Heavy panting noises as he fumbles with his phone before managing to end the call. )
