Well, one offer down and maybe onto another. I guess the cliche for those with faith is something about shutting doors but opening a window, but you’d need some kind of divine actor to keep the right sentence structure.
in simpler, perhaps less hackneyed, words, the owner of the house on which we made an offer did us a huge fucking favor by being a dick. We heard the classic chestnut (sorry more cliches) that our offer was “insulting.” Yeah, fucking right, if “insult” equates with market pricing.
We pitched low, because the square footage was less than we wanted and the flood insurance would have blown (mentally and budget wise). The cherry on that cake was that there would be no refrigerator or washer or dryer in the deal. Didn’t expect the second really, but some has them, and almost everywhere we’ve looked we’ve seen a ‘frig or a discount. The icing would be the gopher holes on visit two.
(Of course, like any Caddy Shack fan, I can see the benefit of the critters for old time fine. They sure can dance.)
The cool part is about two streets away from that overpriced but in sweet shape abode was a similar model. Just a bit more down the road from the mighty purty and cool beach, plus the conveniently located, walking distance grocery store.
Only this puppy has got your extra family room for our family puppet shows or what not. Really, define family before you go condemning us on our need for American, excessive elbow room. Family room it shall be, because “couple room” sounds stupid and kind of sad in a porno way, and “den” is too fucking “Ward, don’t you think you were a little hard on the Beaver.”
(Always go for the extra square footage afterall. Else you are living in one of good, old Pat’s memorable quotes about coupledom and home ownership — “Rats’ll kill each other in a small enough cage.” I think that’s the line.)
Better than the extra square footage , sweeter than sweet extra feet, there’s the lower fucking price. Not so much lower that I’m doing a jig, but at least $200 lower by square foot. Not to mention all new appliances. On top, the flippers doing up the construction are sympatico on the aesthetics front–hardwood floors, ceramic tiles, crown molding and a slate fireplace.
Bringing it on home — Not one, not two but three, count ’em folks, I saw them with my own eyeses fruit bearing trees. Who knew fruit grew on trees? I’m not sure why two lemon, but combine them with the apple and what you got is kickass pie. (If it turns out the not yet installed stove is gas, I just might cream something.)
