I  love living in Key West. You can be who you want to be and love who you  want to love. Nobody, other than the guy who parades around town with  his anti-fag sign, cares what you do or who you sleep with. Gays and  straights and rich and not rich mix at work and at play with ease. We  have a lot of people that have moved here from all over the world. There  are good people and no so good people. The bad people sometimes give  the rest of us a bad name.
I  was eating dinner last week when I got a phone call from a couple that  recently bought a Key West dream home from me. They had a shiny new  convertible delivered to their Key West house a couple of weeks ago so  that they could have transportation whenever they make it down. A nephew  drove the car down and parked in under the carport to protect the paint  from our harsh sun. He left the keys inside the house.
A week  later the couple were contacted by the Key West police. Their car had  been involved in a hit and run accident a couple of days earlier, long  after the nephew who delivered the car had returned to his home. Someone  had got inside their house, found the keys, and went out and managed to  smash the front end and the back end into a parked car on a side street  a mile away. Mysteriously, the car was brought back and parked exactly  where it belonged. A big chain was looped to keep the trunk from falling  off the car.
I  asked the obvious question: who had keys to the car?. The couple did  not know. They said that workers who were doing some interior work on  their house had keys to the house as did the pool man. My mind raced  back to several prior conversations I had with the lady. She had told me  about her Key West hair dresser who she loved. When we were looking at  houses she would ask me about places he had recommended. I drove to one  such place to take photos. I didn't waste any bytes on my camera. It was  the antithesis of what we had been looking at.
I don't know why  it is, but it is a fact that many potential buyers trust people they  meet on bar stools (or in this case in a salon chair) more than they  trust Realtors. I have had several buyers tell me about recommendations  they have received from locals they have met in bars. Complete strangers  that have told them what to buy and what to avoid or who to hire as a  contractor.
After several months of looking at various  properties, my buy buyers bought a great place. They hired a decorator  to develop a color scheme and design plan. My buyers relied on the  hairdresser's recommendation of a friend who they hired to do some minor  fix-up and painting.
My buyers asked me if I would go to their  place after dinner and look at the car and then remove the key to the  lock box outside the front door of the house. I said I would. I was so  upset I couldn't finish my meal. I immediately drove to the house and  found the new car. All four sides of the new car had damage. The damage  is repairable. That's not the point. My buyers had been violated by  someone that had access to the inside of their house. They gave access  to people they trusted. I took photos of the damage and then went to the  front door to get the key. It was not there.
I got on my phone  and called the owners. While we were talking this guy walks down the  sidewalk and turns to enter the front yard. He was in his 30s or 40s and  had an open beer in hand. He had that just-off-the-streets-of-Key-West  look. I asked "Do you live here?" He replied "I'm doing work for the  owners." I told him I was the owners' real estate agent and that they  sent me to fetch the key. It was just near sunset and dark was  approaching. He reached in his pocket and decided he did not have the  key. He said to wait a minute and then walked to the side to make his  way to the back of the house. Several minutes elapsed. I knocked on the  door. No answer. I talked with the owners who were now mildly distressed  and suggested that I go home. The gent said he would come down and sort  things out. Then the would-be painter opened the front door and said to  come in. The house which had been freshly painted reeked of cigarettes.  The air conditioner was on so high I felt chilled. The new big screen  TV was on as were all the lights inside the house. It was obvious the  painter had moved in-to stay.
I asked the painter "Do you know  how the car got damaged?" to which he replied "No." He turned away and  walked toward the pool and jerked his hands to his head. He grabbed his  hair and asked me to get out and come back in five minutes. He needed  time to think.
I went back outside and spoke to the owners. I  decided it was best for me to leave before this guy went completely  insane. I had asked two questions in a calm and polite voice. I made no  accusations in the tone or words. The guy, however, seemed over whelmed  by the thought of having to leave his new house.
Many  local real estate offices provide property management services. If you  plan on renting your property, consider using a licensed and insured  property management company. Hire licensed contractors who won't move  into your property or drive your car when you are not around.
 
 
 

