A Series of Unfortunate Frauds

I was working in my front garden one day, when a woman passed me riding her bike. As an afterthought she blurted as she passed "Do you know anyone looking to sell?" I looked up and saw her looking back at me and I said "Yes, I actually think I do".  Her face lit up as she turned around in the street and she came back to me. I met her on the sidewalk. She asked about the house on the corner next to me. I told her not to bother with that house, the kids weren't interested in selling.  However, I had two elderly neighbors, one of whom had told me that she wanted to sell sooner rather than later, and another couple that owned two houses, and they couldn't manage either very well.  She gladly gave me her information and the story went like this: She was a real estate agent from North Carolina and she was renting here while she tried to find a house. She was having a terrible time because there were not a lot of houses available. She had even sent flyers to every homeowner in my area expressing an interests and not one person had responded.  *sniff sniff*  It was all so sad.  It was such a trying time.  All she wanted was house.  After chatting with Ms. North Carolina, she went on her way and I went on mine.  Within a week, the FSBO sign went up in my neighbors yard. I'm so dense, I didn't even connect the two.  I called the number and spoke with one of the sons.  He told me that he had been approached and offered a lot of money.  The phone was ringing off the hook and they were taking the highest offer.  He was not interested in selling for less and preserving the home his dad had built. He made it clear to me that money was the only issue worth discussing.  I knew that the house would be bulldozed and I was sad to watch the dominoes start dropping, but there they went. Meanwhile,  I had given my elderly neighbor Ms. Carolina's phone number and they were touch.  My elderly neighbor, a retired real estate agent, is sharp as a tack.  She's one of those lucky folks who's lived into her eighties with a sound mind and the bull's share of her memory.  She mentioned to me one day that Ms. Carolina had called and they had gotten together and had a chat.  My sweet neighbor told me in the nicest way and in no uncertain terms that the Carolina woman was full of bull sh#t.  (My neighbor is such a lady that she would never use that exact word but she actually came close this time). That is the impression Ms. Carolina had given her. I was impressed with the strong words and the stronger image of negativity that my neighbor had for this Carolina character.  My neighbor just isn't the kind of person to  speak poorly of anyone, and the fact that she had such a strong, negative view of this person left quite an impression on me.  I figured that someone would have to be really exploding with BS to get my neighbor so unimpressed.  I promised my neighbor I would take her info to heart.  A few days later, I got a call from  Ms. Carolina.  In addition to meeting with my one neighbor, she had managed to contact my other senior neighbors and apparently the phone calls had stopped after an initial interest and she was so upset.  I gently informed her that one of the two was hospitalized.  Without a beat, she kept whining about her need to have a home in Atlantic Beach.  I thought that maybe she didn't hear me.  So I said again "She is in the hospital.  She's IN the hospital.  NOW. Right NOW! And it's not looking good". Then Ms. Carolina began to catch on and so she acknowledged that it was sad to have a spouse in the hospital but if she could just talk to the owner.  This is the part where I got really angry.  It's also the first time when I knew this woman had lied about at least one thing: being a southern native. No self-respecting southern woman would ever harass an elderly couple with one spouse in the hospital seriously injured over buying a house.  It just wouldn't happen. This woman was clearly not southern, and even if she was living in North Carolina part time, she hadn't been living there long enough to learn any common decency. It was like talking to a scarecrow stuff with BS instead of straw.