To Kill a Gecko Helped Alleviate Home Seller’s Frustration

I would not kill a gecko outside on my lanai, but inside the house, yes.

I murdered a gecko yesterday, and honestly, I did not think I had it in me to kill a gecko. But ever since that assault in Carmichael happened I can’t shake the notion of buying a gun. Guns are for killing people, no sense buying a gun if you don’t intend to kill another human being, if it comes down to it.

It was just a reaction. When I got out of my car in the garage, I spotted a gecko running across my tools on a shelf. Instinctively I grabbed the closest tool, which was a brush attached to the end of a broom handle. This is the tool I use to clean gecko poop off the house. My intention was to scoot the gecko along until I could push him out of the garage door into the grass.

My intuition was not to kill a gecko. However, he continued to evade me. Dashed up and down the wall as the broom brush went after him. I was so close to guiding him out the door when he suddenly jumped. Did you know geckos can jump? They wind up that little butt, give it a whirl, and they leap.

This activity went on for about 10 minutes. He’d slither behind my shelves to rest in Christmas wrapping paper. Bam, I whomped the paper and sent it flying, hoping to scare the critter toward the door. The door to freedom. But he wasn’t having any of it. He was frantic. Probably wondering why I was going after him when I never had before. To him, I appeared like Jack Nicholson in The Shining, axe chopping through the door. Here’s Johnny.

Only this was Heeeere’s Elizabeth. Mad woman. When the gecko ran into the window blinds, my fast reflexes smushed him. Bent one of the blinds, too. I hadn’t yet managed to kill a gecko, though, because he fell to the ground, still wiggling. I looked at the window and saw a smear of guts. Then I jabbed the broom brush on top of him, really hard. He stopped moving. Yup, the realization swept over me. I killed a gecko.

Oh, well, they usually come in pairs. Although I have never seen two geckos in the garage. Only one. If they are in the house or garage, fair game. Soaking wet, getting out of the shower last night, I noticed a baby gecko was in the shower with me. I calmly grabbed a flyswatter and with one fell SMACK, he dropped to the shower floor, motionless. Not only did I kill a gecko, but it was two in one day.

Later, while talking with my clients in Sacramento last night about buyers who are canceling because they cannot get a loan, the gecko episode came up. The sellers were considering making a demand for the buyer’s deposit. I explained the rigamarole and suggested they might not want to pursue it. It’s not like they really have claim to the money. They were frustrated by the experience because nobody expected it.

The reason the buyers couldn’t get a loan is because one of them worked for a nonprofit. The nonprofit operates on grants. Like a passport can’t be used within 6 months of expiration, well, this particular nonprofit’s grant expired in 6 months. Even though it would probably be renewed for another 3 years, that wasn’t good enough for the underwriter. No loan for that buyer. I’ve never run into this situation before, and I have 43 years of real estate.

I said I understand the urge to want to cause the buyers a bit of pain for the upheaval those people created. In the long run, I pointed out, they just want to sell their house and close escrow, not create more drama. Then I shared that I killed a gecko for them instead. After laughing, they said it did make them feel better. So the death of a gecko served a purpose.