When trust becomes tile rubble

Some encounters in the property world are memorable - not necessarily because of the happy ending, but because of their curiosity.

Sometimes it all starts quite harmlessly. One prospective tenant appeared extremely self-confident on first contact: a well-groomed appearance, pithy words and an emphatically confident smile. It was clear from the very first viewing appointment that this was someone who was convinced that he could take any property by storm.

He emphasised several times that the financing was "not an issue at all", everything was already prepared, they just had to "give the final go-ahead". He liked the flat straight away - but not without immediately going through the changes in his head. "New parquet flooring is going in here, the bathroom is being completely redone anyway, the kitchen... I already have a customised design in mind."

At the second appointment, he came again - this time with a person who was supposedly his financing partner. Again, lots of words, lots of gestures, lots of posturing. It quickly became clear that he was convinced that he was not just viewing a property, but was already half owner. "I'm almost through with the bank anyway," he said casually, while he was already thinking about where he could place the couch.

Then the next step:

He wanted to come back a third time - this time with the aim of precisely measuring all the floor areas. He emphasised that the floors also had to be co-financed.
The desired date? A Sunday. My day off. The only day of the week when I consistently don't do any viewings. But after some pleading and insistence - and a touch of guilty conscience on my part - I agreed. But on one condition: I would entrust him with the key for a short time so that he could take his measurements in peace. A leap of faith, as it turned out.

When he returned the key, I was in for a shock: five tiles had been knocked off the wall in the bathroom. When I asked him about this and wanted to know what had prompted him to carry out this unauthorised intervention, all I got was a shrug of the shoulders - and the sentence that topped it all: "I had to check whether the wall behind it was damp and I'm renovating the bathroom anyway."

What else is there to say?

At the time of his self-build with hammer and chisel, he was far from owning the flat. The purchase offer included a clear financing proviso. And, unsurprisingly, the financing fell through. Communication with the bank? Not a chance. A direct line of communication was not possible, and the financial advisor employed was just as down-to-earth as his customer - unapproachable, evasive and not very solution-orientated.

My conclusion after this episode?

Not everyone who speaks loudly has sustainable means. And not every tailor-made suit is a guarantee of seriousness.

Some prospective customers are just vapour talkers - or charming impostors with a folding rule.

After this experience, I no longer hide the keys to my flat. Who knows what the next customer will come up with ... .