There was a time when the vendors of a holiday home made it clear to me that I didn't have to call them whenever I was showing the house, they would call me when they were coming down to stay. The guy actually was an ex-agent and knew how things worked.
They gave me the key and i thought 'this is going to be easy'... Until the moment I have clients with me and I turn up at the house, knock (as you usually do anyway) and then walk on in and think to myself 'I must get here earlier and open some windows because of the funky smell'.
Next thing, the vendor comes rushing out with a towel around him, followed closely by a woman, naked bar the sheet wrapped around her.
Then there is that really uncomfortable moment when it also dawns on you that this is not his wife.
Wow, where do you go from here? There are five people standing round not knowing what to say (or where to look), and then there is that look of realisation that the cloistered smell was from a morning of heated passion in a house all closed up on a summers day.
I did as any decent agent would: "Oh dear, you didn't tell me you would be down this weekend and it looks like we have interrupted your afternoon nap. We'll go and look at some other houses and be back in half an hour".
There was a lot of nodding and red faces, then as I walked out the door I said “You might want to open some windows, it's stuffy in here.”