There’s a certain domain name of which I am part owner, the other owner being my friend in Missoula. This domain is a three-letter dot-com and as we all know there are a limited number of those, therefore they have a certain value. I’m not naming the domain here, but I think the perceptive reader can figure it out.
A friend helped us register this domain back in the early nineties, when it was free. Since then, we have used it for a legitimate purpose; we are not cybersquatters.
Over the years, as the registered owner, I have gotten frequent inquiries about selling the domain. Most of these inquiries are not credible. They most often in the form of a one-liner e-mail, “Hey, you wanna sell that?” They rarely offer a price; it’s more common for them to ask me, “How much you want for that?” I find that sort of approach annoying and unprofessional.
Three years ago, my partner and I talked about actively seeking to sell the domain. We share a sentimental attachment to the domain, and I use it daily, but it’s the content that matters more than the address. We could move that content to another domain. We are not making money off the domain, and if someone else has a plan to do that, why not sell it and reap a little profit?
So we discussed it and came up with a price that we both found acceptable. My partner did most of the work in terms of research and arranging for an auction. But for some reason which eludes me now, we never went through with it.
Fast-forward to the present. Monday morning I got a voicemail and an e-mail from a broker looking to buy the domain, and they actually named a price — $10,000. I responded politely that the domain was not for sale. Soon I got a follow-up offer which was five times the original. I still said no. The broker made a third offer of $60K and asked “what price it would take” for us to part with the domain. I named the price my partner and I had cooked up three years ago. Now the broker wanted to know why our price was so high. She revealed their “dedicated pricing team” had appraised the domain. I won’t mention the figure here but it was substantially higher than her best offer but also much lower than our asking price.
$60K may sound like a lot of money, but keep in mind the broker would take a cut, and then my partner and I would split it, and then we’d have to pay taxes on it. I’d be lucky to see $20K. That’s still a good chunk of change, I suppose, but a dollar is definitely not what it used to be. As a matter of comparison, a couple years ago I pissed away $10K on the stock market, our tax refund this year was $9K, and Xy recently took a $20K pay cut. More money is always welcome, but I know we could absorb $20K into our annual living expenses and not even really notice.
My partner’s financial situation may be different, of course, and I need to be sensitive to that. Still, I don’t regret saying no yesterday. When I told Xy I’d turned down an offer of $60K for the domain, her response was “One million dollars, and not a penny less! Tell ’em your crazy wife said so!” I think if we sell the domain it should be on our terms, as a result of proactively seeking to sell it, rather than waiting for a deal to fall into our laps. That would seem the best way to assure we get a good price. But what do I know? I’m simply not motivated at this point to do the work necessary. And if we are unable to sell it for the price we desire, I am willing to accept that.
Coincidentally, as I was responding to these inquiries, I was also trying to untangle a confusing and messy situation regarding a domain name that belongs to a local civic organization. My head was abuzz with domain names and other contingencies and by the end of the day I was experiencing a bit of cognitive overload. But at least I got a good night’s sleep.