I’ve discussed the downside of working with distressed properties, and I’ve talked about being an unabashed altruist, the guiding philosophy of DBNR: giving people who want to own homes the opportunity to do so.

I still stand by that. But standing where I am, I now also face a situation where I have to take into consideration not only the needs of our customers, but also the needs of our company. I think it interesting that I’m facing a battle between altruism and capitalism in not one but two situations.

There is nothing similar about the locations. One is urban Chicago, the other a town in rural South Carolina named Hartsville, not far from the Darlington Raceway (for you NASCAR fans). But there is something similar about the stories. In each case, I have two potential buyers. In each case, one is the prototypical DBNR client — in need of a hand (not a handout, as we used to say) to get into a home, and who will take advantage of our process by making monthly payments over time. The other is someone who is willing to pay cash for the house.

See the dilemma? If I sell to the latter buyer, I get a house off DBNR books and have the cash now. If I sell to the former buyers, I serve DBNR’s philosophy but I run the risk of getting the properties back if the new owners default. Because we don’t surrender the note, we maintain ownership of the property, but then the process starts again.

Read the stories and think about what you’d do in my situation. The first potential buyer in Chicago is a single mother with two kids who works in the office of Cook County’s waste management division; I’ll call her Sheila. She wants this two-flat (as they call it there; we would call it a duplex) so she has a place for her family to live and a place she can rent out. The property needs some work — not a lot — and Sheila’s father will take care of that for her. We’ll hold a 15- to 20-year note on the property.

Competing with Sheila is a wholesaler we’ve been working with in Chicago, who has another family ready to buy. He’s offering a little less than Sheila is, but he promises that the property will be paid off in three months. Complicating the issue is that this particular wholesaler isn’t always the most reliable person in transactions. He frequently wants more time, and then some more time, and meanwhile, Sheila is calling frequently though waiting patiently.

The situation in Hartsville is only a little simpler. It is a one-third-acre lot, suitable for parking a mobile home. The thing about rural South Carolina that we’re not used to here in Silicon Valley is there are people who have neither computers nor voice mail. They have to drive into town to send a fax. The first few times I called back the first buyer, whom I’ll call Ronnie, I got a recording saying that I should try again later. I began to think he was a flake.

But I’ve come to believe he is sincere. Ronnie actually rented the lot previously, and lived there in a mobile home. He doesn’t know why the people that owned it wouldn’t sell it to him, even when they were in danger of losing the lot in foreclosure (which is how DBNR got it). He’s even willing to pay more than the cash buyer, but he needs DBNR financing.

On the other side of equation is Chuck — or, to be more accurate, Chucks’ dad, since I’ve never actually talked to Chuck. Chuck works for a manufacturing company in Libya. He works for three months and comes home to Hartsville for three weeks. Chucks’ dad has been dickering on the price, offering first one amount and then less, and then more when he found out he was competing with Ronnie.

All four of these prospects have their plusses and minuses. Time may give me the answer, with one or more dropping out of contention. But it’s entirely possible that the decision will be mine. And at that time, I will be weighing capitalism vs. altruism.