Boydstun Realty

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. A delivery driver pulled up to Boydstun Realty one morning and exclaimed, 'This place is haunted!' The realtor raised an eyebrow. 'Why do you say that?' The driver pointed to the window. 'Look who just walked in.' A small dog trotted past, sniffing around the office door, completely ignoring everyone inside. The realtor smiled and said, ‘That’s our resident ghost-dog, Rover.’ A neighbor passing by nodded, remarking, ‘He always shows up when someone new moves in.’ The delivery driver scratched his head and asked, ‘So he’s not actually a ghost?’ The realtor laughed, replying, ‘No, but he sure knows how to make an entrance!’

2. A salesman entered Boydstun Realty one afternoon, only to freeze mid-step as he caught the scent of freshly baked cookies wafting from an open window. He looked around curiously—no oven was visible anywhere in the office. Smiling politely, he approached the window and saw a small, elderly lady waving cheerfully from next door. ‘Freshly baked,’ she called out, holding up a tray of cookies. ‘They’re for everyone!’ The salesman laughed, shook his head, and walked away whistling—a little confused but thoroughly charmed.

3. A realtor arrived early one morning to discover an old umbrella standing proudly in the reception area. No one claimed it, but every day after that, a different item appeared—an odd sock, a mismatched glove, and even a lone shoe. Soon, clients started noticing too, and some began leaving their own forgotten belongings behind. Finally, one afternoon, a delivery driver left his entire lunch—a sandwich wrapped in newspaper, an apple, and a thermos of coffee—by mistake. The next day, there was a note on the door: ‘Welcome to Boydstun Realty, where your lost items find us first!’ Clients laughed, agents grinned, and soon enough, everyone knew about the quirky little office where lost things always seemed to end up.

4. At dawn, when Boydstun Realty's windows were just beginning to catch the first rays of sunrise, a gardener noticed something peculiar. Among the neatly trimmed lawns and meticulously arranged shrubs stood a lone bicycle, its tires still spinning ever so slightly. Curious, he approached it, only to see a note attached to the handlebar: 'Forgot my bike here.' Below was scribbled in pencil, 'Will collect later—A Regular.' The gardener shrugged, smiled, and went back to his work. And indeed, an hour later, a delivery driver arrived on another bicycle, scratching his head and muttering, 'I must be getting old.'