Monday
I decided that it was time to start thinking about buying my own place. Not particularly encouraged that I could afford a place in San Francisco, I established my game plan. I’d look in the city for three months and if I didn’t find anything, I’d start looking for a property somewhere I’d like to retire.

Wednesday
I met with a real estate agent who had been recommended to me. She pulled up properties in my price range. I chose a few that interested me, and she called the selling agents. After each call, she hung up the phone and said, “I’m sorry; it’s in contract. They’re not showing it.” I wasn’t too discouraged. I had heard it could take a long time to find a place. The last agent she called, however, agreed to show us the place on Saturday. I asked her the address and when she told me, I laughed. “That’s half a block from where I live now.”

Saturday
We met the selling agent at 1:00 pm. He took us to the roof deck first and I was in love. We walked through the condo and I couldn’t find anything to change my mind.

On the sidewalk, my agent asked me what I thought. “I love it. Let’s make an offer.” An open house was scheduled for the next day. “I won’t get in a bidding war. I’ve seen how that turns out.”

She thought for a moment. “Okay. We’ll make an offer tomorrow morning at 8 am. They’ll have until 2 pm, when the open house is scheduled to start, to accept or reject it. If they don’t accept it, it will expire.” “Sounds like a plan,” I said.

Sunday1:55 pm. I receive an email that my offer was accepted. Several signatures later and we were in escrow.

Three Weeks Later
Today I signed a very large stack of loan papers. Next week, keys. Looking forward to making San Francisco my home for another twenty years.