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TIFU by accidentally greeting my house buyer in my underwear

I need to share this because I’m still cringing so hard I might fold in on myself.

So, today, I’m sat in the front window packing boxes, wearing a T‑shirt, pants, and my CAM boot because I’ve broken my ankle and trousers are currently a luxury I cannot be bothered with. I’m sat so low down that from outside you can only see my head and shoulders (they later told me they thought I was a child). So I’m not just casually on display; I’m not a neighbourhood flasher.

A car crawls past the house and stops across the drive. I’m squinting at them because I’ve got no glasses on, I can’t make out if I know them or if they are potentially ruffians. The man in the passenger seat is pointing at the house and gesturing like he’s giving some sort of tour. Full arm movements. Commentary. The works. We lock eyes, or at least I think we do, and I can see he is staring at me.

I’m thinking: surely not. Surely that’s not my buyer. Surely turning up unannounced is not the done thing. So I assume he’s just some random bloke and there is some other explanation.

Before I can fully process the situation, he jumps out and makes eye contact with me as he walks up the drive.

I need to walk past the front door to go and find trousers. There’s no avoiding it. I have to say something…

So I open the door, ready to say “hold on a sec while I get dressed,” but before I can even get the words out, he blurts out, “Hi! It’s me, your buyer!”

My brain immediately left my body.

I glanced back into the house and saw the absolute state of my hall (boxes everywhere, chaos, embarrassment) and for reasons I still don’t understand, I decided the best thing to do was to step outside and shut the door behind myself. As if trapping myself outside in my pants is somehow less humiliating than him seeing my hallway.

So now I’m locked outside, no trousers, no bra, broken ankle, crutches on the wrong side of the door, a mom bun, I’m standing there like something the universe spat out.

He then introduces me to his girlfriend, who is fully dressed, fully made‑up, she looks put together. I apologise for the state of me. She says, “Oh don’t worry, I’m not dressed either,” while looking like she’s on her way out for a date.

They explain they were just doing a quick drive‑by so he could show her the house, but he didn’t want me to think they were casing the place, so he got out to explain.

Which is how I ended up having a ten‑minute conversation on my doorstep, half‑naked, barefoot, ankle throbbing, trying to act like this is a normal way to meet the people buying your home.

As my buyer left he said “Please don’t mention this to the estate agent, I don’t want her to think I’ve circumnavigated her”. I was thinking mate… I’m not wanting to tell anyone. Luckily for me, I didn’t really have to tell anyone, the whole thing is on the ring camera, so my husband was able to watch live.

TL; DR My buyer turned up for an impromptu visit and I answered the door in my pants. I’m an idiot.

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