I had a boss once who had his “Theory of the Golden Inch.” He would say (knowingly ironical about the dimensions used), “you can run a mile, but that last inch is worth its weight in gold.”
We recently took over a project in San Antonio from another investor. You may remember it as the St. John house. The house had been renovated, but never sold, and the investor had had to focus his attention elsewhere; he simply had no bandwidth to finish this one out. Never mind the failure of the contractor to actually finish the job [pipes leaking, doors missing, paint left in the cans instead of the walls, overgrown yard…], someone had recently stolen the A/C unit outside. And had failed to lock the back door.
Maybe they had an agreement with the squatter that if they left the back door unlocked, he wouldn’t break any windows to get in. Who knows how long he had been camping out in the middle bedroom? The new carpet may have made for a decent bed, but it wasn’t very useful to put out cigarettes, not that that stopped our guest.