The Open House Circuit

Open houses are an efficient way for realtors to show a property—and to get buyers' competitive juices flowing.

By Steve Burgess; illustration by Geoffrey Grahn (Published: March 2006)

“One word—crazy.”

The speaker is from Burnaby. She and her husband, middle-aged Indo-Canadians, are cruising an East Broadway condo on a grey Sunday in January. Her pithy assessment refers to the local real estate market as experienced by those unfortunate souls who must make the weekend rounds, endlessly cycling through a parade of possible homes—cute condos, impossible dream houses, shabby old apartments priced with delusions of grandeur and purchased by desperate seekers willing to buy into that delusion. Prices go up, and people pay before the price goes up again. One word—crazy.

Or perhaps not. Not everyone is panicking here at ground level. A random sampling of shoppers suggests that at least some Vancouver real estate buyers are willing to resist the hype.

This Burnaby couple, for example. Despite Mrs. B’s description of the Vancouver real estate market, she and her husband are in no hurry. They have been around and they know the market. “We’re educated,” says Mr. B.

“That’s why we’re not buying,” his wife adds with a laugh. Homeowners already, they are seeking a potential investment property. “We’re in no rush,” he smiles.

They would have to be in this case. The deal is going down fast. Realtor Steve Birkic tells each new arrival that an offer has already been made on this cosy little fourth-floor condo located on a dicey stretch of Broadway near Fraser. “If you’re interested,” he repeats, “you have to do something tonight, and we will present it to the accountant.” The decision is tentatively set for tomorrow.

It’s an estate sale—the previous owner has moved on to new digs. Death ought to lend a macabre atmosphere to the process, a line of strangers tramping through the domestic remains of the barely-departed. But no. Thanks to the staged furniture, the beige carpet and the cookie-cutter layout, it’s impossible to summon up any Gothic poltergeist activity here. Vancouver condos don’t do spooky. Anyway, with just 787 square feet and appliances in the closet, where could a poor spirit hide?

Check that—there may be one ghost haunting this condo, and almost every other on the Vancouver market. Everyone wants to know about leaks. “This building went up in 1999, and construction was halted so they could incorporate a rain screen,” Birkic assures one couple. Savvy shoppers always ask about access to the minutes of strata council meetings, seeking to undercover any chronic problems.

Mr. B notes the empty lot next door. “That was a gas station, torn down a few years ago,” Birkic explains. “Environmental regulations say they have to wait at least 10 years before building on it. It will be another four-storey, with some commercial and some residential. Once that goes in prices will appreciate in this neighbourhood.”

Imagine—less than a decade from now, prices will be soaring over a former toxic waste site.
Better buy now.

“It’s stressful,” says Sue, a 35-year-old who’s been on the prowl for six months. “There’s real pressure to make an offer that day. But more and more I’m hearing people say, ‘I refuse to pay these prices. It’s ridiculous.’”

Still, she doesn’t think there will be any discounts here, near Broadway and Fraser. “This close to downtown? No bargain shopping here. East Hastings, maybe.”

Actors Beverley Elliott and Sarah Hayward show up to have a look around. Hayward is looking, Elliott helping. The two listen as Birkic fields questions from shoppers: “Is there storage and parking?” (Yes.) “Could we put in laminate flooring?” (Sure, if you ask the strata council first.) “What about pets?”

“You can have two dogs, or cats, or a dog and a cat,” Birkic decrees. “Two animals.”

“One bear and one pig,” Elliott suggests. They have a quick look around. Elliott (seen in such films as Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants and Unforgiven, as well as TV shows like Godiva’s and The Collector) isn’t fond of all the big full-length windows. “Too much like a goldfish bowl,” she says.

Another young woman walks in alone, looking bewildered. “I feel lost,” she says. “My realtor did not come with me. He told me to see these but didn’t come with me. I don’t think he’s doing his job.”

She wanders out into the hall. “How do I get out?” she asks plaintively. Hayward and Elliott watch her go with sympathy.

“Most people take realtors along with them,” Elliott says. “It’s not really necessary if you educate yourself. But otherwise it’s in your interests to have a realtor along. The seller pays the commission anyway. I offered to help Sarah because I’ve been through the process before. And I just like to look into other people’s houses.”

CONTINUE