Today, Adrian and I are signing a lease on an apartment that I absolutely love.
- About a year ago, we were all packed and ready to move into a condo. After weeks of fighting the bank (Self-Employed does NOT mean we are not stable, for fuck’s sake), we did not get it because a resident of the building was suing the HOA for racism, and bankrupted the HOA. We shook our heads in frustration, but our things remained packed, and we looked for a new place.
- A few months after that, we put an offer in on a house in bad shape, but with good bones and an even better neighborhood, with the plans, funding, and know-how of turning it into a spectacular modern home. 30 minutes later, another couple called and placed an offer for $10,000 higher. It was immediately accepted.
- One hour after that, we put an offer in on our second choice home–a completely re-done home with a killer backyard. The seller’s realtor never gave them our offer, even though we offered over asking, and instead sold it to someone else.
- Yesterday, as we were filling out an application for an apartment with a fantastic downtown view, someone else got the unit. I honestly don’t even know how that happened.
Dear God, please let this one stick. I live in that place that cops warn people about, and my Irish Married-To-A-Jew ass is as out of place as I can be.
Though slightly jaded, we tried to keep our heads up because despite our frustration, I knew we were lucky to even be looking at a new place to live. And, as my Ma told me, “You’re not taken off of a path without being given a new one to walk.”
And y’all, the Real Estate path is truly a magical one.
1) The Little People House
This house was advertised as an adorable 3,000 square foot, 5 bedroom, 3.5 bath for a stupid low price–corner lot, garage. It had to be too good to be true, but we couldn’t resist. Initially, it was any old house, but we could only find 3 bedrooms.
That is, until we opened a mysteriously skinny door right next to the fridge which led to what I can only describe as an attic addition only suited to little people. The stairs were vertical, and once we got to the top, Adrian was on his hands and knees, the realtor was balanced on the ladderstairs, and I was standing, HAND TO GOD, one foot in the bathtub, one foot in a bedroom, laughing my ass off at the absurdity of the situation. It was like a poorly planned dollhouse, everything miniaturized and weirdly placed.
Why sure, let’s put 4 closets in this room!
There absolutely needs to be electrical outlets on the floor of the bathroom.
WHY NOT PUT A 4 FOOT X 1 FOOT HALLWAY TO ONLY A WINDOW?
Adrian had to talk me out of that one–I would have loved the little people addition in a way only few can.
2) I Need Medicine Now.
Another 5 bedroom, 3,000 square foot home for a stupid low price. A previous duplex, the owners who were foreclosed on had tried to renovate and run out of money. We figured that depending on the seriousness of the disrepair, we could give it a run. It didn’t go well.
Adrian: “Oh, what? What is that smell?”
Realtor: “Don’t mind that–the house has been vacant a while.”
Noa: “Nice fireplace…why is the tub in it’s own room off the living room? Why is it on a pedestal?”
Realtor: “Previous owners were eccentric.”
Noa: “I take it that’s why there is a ceramic tile elephant on the wall?”
Realtor: “Yes, and a Zebra in the other room.”
Adrian: “You say that like it’s a fine addition to the house. I like the original floors. Why is…wait. Why is there a wheelbarrow in here? Is it burning?”
Realtor: “Not anymore, no, it’s okay.”
Adrian: “What do you mean, not anymore? There is some smoke, I can swear it’s burning HOLY SHIT YOU JUST SHOOED AWAY THE HOMELESS PEOPLE.”
Realtor: “No. Yes. Okay, yes I did.”
Adrian: “Is that common?”
Realtor: “In this neighborhood. There may still be some here.”
Adrian: “We should go.”
In this kitchen, there was a 6 inch high cat door 5 feet off the ground.
I just did not understand how this could possibly work. Why was this pet entrance choice made at this height? How did the cat aim for that? What was it like cooking or entertaining and having a cat just fly into the room like a bad tittie joke? How did they teach their cat to jump at JUST the right height?
I imagine it being a lot like a lion leaping through a hoop. “Oh, don’t mind Hugo, he’s just going to leap onto your back at any moment and shred your clothing, dignity, and your soul.”
4) If I Can’t Base Jump, It’s Not Worth It
While looking for apartments after being horribly disappointed in the houses, we were shown a nice apartment on a high floor downtown, overlooking a park. 700 square feet, with a 1,500 square foot terrace. That’s right. 2,200 square foot apartment, 2/3 of which was inexplicably located outdoors. There were so many possibilities.
Adrian: “Can we use this space to add on to the apartment?”
Leasing Agent: “No…”
Noa: “How do you feel about pools with cabanas and/or hot tubs?”
Leasing Agent: “Not favorably.”
Noa: “Is it high enough to base jump from?”
Leasing Agent: “I don’t think so.”
Noa: “I don’t understand what we would use this for, then.”
Adrian: “Roller Derby.”
Not to mention:
- Cherubic stripper pole (it’s charming!)
- The kitchen located in the entrance hallway (a space-saver)
- The house with 57 cattle skulls in it (they’ll negotiate them into the price)
- The washer and dryer located on opposite ends of the house (energy efficient)
- The bolted-to-the-foundation arbor with the word TWAT welded to it. (Unique!)
- Tree growing up from the fireplace (green!)
- And the house lacking a ceiling and floor (to hone my skills as a ninja. HandyNinja Special!)
I can’t make this shit up. Fucking magical.
I can’t be the only one that’s seen some crazy housing. What have you seen?