So the only way to sell condos these days and beat back that impending feeling of Condo Shame (noun; “a toxic combination of desire and repulsion toward reasonably priced postwar creature comforts.”) might be to put sweaty handprints all over the bathroom mirrors, so when the new buyers steam it up for the first time they’ll see what might have been one lesbian couple’s Valentine’s Day bang sesh. Or, throw some Amniotic Fluid around.
From the Observer article about “condo shame,” a quote on the state of what a buyer might want:
‚”I have a deeply rooted dislike of expedient, cookie-cutter, pseudo-luxury condo developments and would almost rather blow money renting something ‘real’ with history, a story, the possibility that some woman once gave birth in my bedroom with or without a midwife or a lesbian couple had V-Day sex in the bathroom.”
Hell, if that’ll sell these monstrosities it’s just a matter of time before the open houses come with a free seven minutes in heaven with the middle-aged real estate agent in the master bedroom, just to stain things up a bit and give it that lived-in feeling. And you thought free iPods might get these yupsters through the doors? Try harder.