False positives

As soon as my two bedroom apartment had gone on the market the interest was keen.
David had a private realtor viewing and the reaction was very good, then the public got to see it starting with the first of several open houses. I couldn't have asked for a better day for that initial showing, a crisp, sunny Sunday in Autumn, perfect for spending the day looking at new apartments. Someone told me once that Fall was the best time of year to sell. Summer vacations are over, time to get serious and figure out where you're going to live before the onslaught of the holiday season.

Within a few days I had the first offer. Yes!
But thrill turned to disappointment when we found out that the couple's finances weren't as rosy as first indicated. She was the breadwinner, he was a stay-at-home dad/ex-photographer. A good chunk of their net worth was a 'gift' from her parents. That should have been our first clue. When daughter brought mommy to see the place for a re-look, two days later their monies dried up, they didn't have as much as originally thought. Hmmm. Methinks mom didn't like her guestroom. Oh well, that's the crazy world of Manhattan real estate. Easy come, easy go, it was still early in the game and I wasn't worried.
We were still getting scads of people showing up for the next two open houses, thirty to sixty individual parties! I wasn't there (my nerves couldn't take seeing that much traffic in my abode), but David said it was a madhouse.
Cut to offer #2.
All cash.
A soon-to-be empty nester couple from New Jersey. They were downsizing from a big house in the suburbs to a city place. They still had a teenager who had one more year of high school before he went off to college. They wanted that second bedroom for when he came home on visits. All was hunky-dory til they started asking odd questions and volunteering way too much information. Turns out the son was a special needs kid and they hadn't yet found a school for him in the city. They still wanted to buy my apartment but wanted to know if they could postpone moving in for a year while he finished his schooling in NJ. The apartment would essentially be a city pied-à-terre till they could make it their primary residence. Alarm bells started going off my head. My co-op board, while very fair, played everything by the book. Hell would freeze over before they allowed a pied-à-terre in the building. It was against the rules and a big no-no. Bye bye empty nesters. Bye bye all cash offer.
Cut to offer #3.
Gay couple, two guys, Brits. And, thank heaven, all cash again. HOORAY.
Their finances were very good, they loved the place. We had s signed selling agreement in a matter of days. When they finally had their Board interview they sailed through.
Now I had to start packing up twelve years of stuff to get the heck out of there. Did I say i HATE packing??