This weekend, I received my second offer from a female friend to go look at open houses with me if I ever get around to buying a home.  I find it interesting that I’ve had so many volunteers for this. Personally, the only time I ever walk through strangers’ homes is when I’m wearing a ski mask and carrying a bottle of chloroform. But apparently there’s a whole element of humanity--perhaps predominantly female?--that enjoys visiting open houses even if they’re not on the market to buy a house.

I am glad to have the help.  I’ve noticed that when you visit open houses as a single male, people treat you differently. Ahead of you, the homeowners are saying to the young couple: “It was great to meet you!  I think you’ll agree that the energy in our home is perfect for rearing little children who will be named after you and carry your genes through private school and ivy league secret societies!  Okay, bye now!”

And then they turn to you, look at you up and down, and exclaim “Hello there!  Have you seen the back yard? It’s perfect for burying victims once you’re finished with one of your serial killer rampages.”

My friend suggested to me that if the homeowners connect with the couple on a personal level, they may even be willing to be more open to negotiating the price--because sentimentalism clouds their judgment and they think “We really want this nice couple to have our house.”

Which seems like another excellent reason to have a female companion along for the ride. Let’s say that my friend and I were talking to the homeowners.  I could furtively scan the room and look for photographs, drawers, and open closets that might be able to arm us with information and give us an edge:

“I see you went to Aruba on your honeymoon. We did too! It was lovely!”

“Ha ha! We also have that wonderful framed saying, ‘God Bless this Mess’ on the living room wall!  It is to laugh!”

“Oh look over there! What a coincidence--we use French ticklers too!”