 |
That's right! We're moving into
the laundry!
|
“The owners are very interested in taking offers at
this time.” The agent told me, quite obviously ignoring the fact my attention
was fixated on the air-conditioning vent in the laundry. “There is a vent in
the laundry” I pointed out to her. We both looked at it for a moment before she
made a joke about how it would make my wife happy. This was wrong on many
levels, firstly being sexist but also because my wife would just turn it off
rather than basking in the cold windy glory. It takes a true visionary to
recognise brilliance in this simple vent. Of course though, mostly because it
is sexist.
 |
| Thank you, Inspirational Quote. |
She repeated the comment about offer and owners
again so I looked quickly around for my friends who I had come with on this
inspection. Because they were the prospective buyers, not me. However I
realised at this point they had gone outside and left me to have this awesome
conversation I found myself having. Also, there was a second agent and he
started asking me new questions. Right then I should have just told them I was
with friends, they were kicking tyres and I had no intention of ever buying
this house. Yet I was like a socially inept deer caught in headlights and for
some reason I continued the conversation by talking about prices. Because I am an idiot.
 |
| Inexplicably, I'm still relevant! |
If you wondered how much a house with A/C in the
laundry would set you back, wonder no more: $1.4 million. Keep in mind though, I
was reassured by the agent, this was the current market value for this area.
“Interesting,” I nodded to them while thinking to myself, “No it bloody well
fucking isn’t”. “Sure, please show me this particular feature of the kitchen
again”, I answered to their next question, thinking how I would love to be
doing anything else except that. “The outdoor area is lovely” I further agreed
to their statement, continuing the conversation but really not wanting to.
Now I’ve read that word ‘lovely’ before but I don’t
think I’ve ever typed it myself, and certainly never said it in conversation.
That is when I had an epiphany; normal me doesn’t want to talk to real estate
agents, doesn’t call a BBQ area “lovely” and certainly can’t afford a $1.4
million house. I needed to pick a different persona to handle that, someone who
was comfortable in all the situations I am not mentally capable of handling.
 |
Going to miss the
swapping though.
|
Next weekend I will be Dr Myles Willard, on the
prowl for a house suitable for his trophy wife and kids. A rocket scientist, he
obtained his PhD in the physics of spaceship grease and routinely uses words
like “lovely” while discussing Japanese architectural influences. The wife will
need to get a new outfit, something slutty yet tasteful. Dr Willard also has an
earring so I’m going to have to look at getting that this week. Or, you know, I
could just not go looking at houses with them again.
Ever.
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