IF you were planning to sell your house, would you open it to the public to view with a sink full of dirty dishes and piles of grubby clothes on bathroom and bedroom floors? I thought not. Me neither
But this is the norm on the property sites advertising houses for sale online. Over the past few months I have, out of interest, been browsing the internet to see what property is available in the small towns and suburbs of the Western Cape.
Perhaps it’s because I am looking at the lower end of the housing market, but it is quite shocking to see messy living conditions with no attempt to tidy up.
I really don’t want to see someone’s undies hung up to dry in the bathroom, unmade beds, dirty laundry, curtains tied in the middle with string to let the light in, grandpa’s pyjamas spread out on the bed, ready to wear, and a toilet roll on the diningroom table. In the garden there are overturned chairs, rubbish and household junk clogging up out-of-the-way corners, and a general air of neglect which pervades each photo. “Needs TLC, just a lick of paint” says the advertising blurb. Indeed. Perhaps the TLC should be given before splashing someone’s poor housekeeping habits online for the whole world to see. It really doesn’t scream buy me. It screams this house is filthy.
I would have thought that estate agents would guide their clients on ways to get the best deal, and clean and fresh are top of the list, surely. Yet, they post these images on their websites and the prospective buyer is supposed to see past the grime, and fall in love enough to request a viewing. It is confusing and it illustrates that standards are not what they used to be.
Talking of standards, it seems the mindset (I’m extra special) responsible for the appalling driving and blatant flouting of the rules of the road in this part of eThekwini, have crept into other areas of social interaction as well.
Take the supermarket, that place best to be avoided on a Saturday morning, but needs must.
Firstly there are the talkers, the fond family reunions in the middle of a walkway, leaving no room for other shoppers to pass, but undeterred, the “family” remains cemented to the floor while they goo and gush, oblivious to the ever rising risk of trolley rage around them.
In this country, we walk on the left. I remember the days long ago when there was a white line painted down the centre of pavements in the city centres of our large cities. Walking on the left, driving on the left, riding the escalator on the left, these rules – some laws, some conventions – become automatic. Or they should,
However, in supermarkets we walk every which way and then we stop in a narrow path cluttered with display bins, while we chat to our homey on the cell phone. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in …
The most annoying supermarket shoppers are those people who park their trolleys in queues at the tills and then go rushing off to complete their shopping. The worst is actually unpacking part of their goods at the till, then remembering a basket full of items they have forgotten. The teller is stuck because she has begun to ring up the merchandise, so we in the queue wait and wait and wait some more. Write a list! It works!