House Hunting

Sometime next week, I'm flying to Texarkana to look for a home. This is a true labor of love at this point because there is very little inventory available in December anyway. But on top of that, living in a city of 60,000 in the budget I want to spend means there is about three houses to chose from. 

Additionally, though I am trying, I'm not a fan of my agent. The agent was a gift and a close personal friend of the president of Marty's new company. She also is the broker for one of the two real estate companies in town. This agent is sweet and all Southern Hostess but she can't stop talking for three seconds to let me get a word in edgewise. Plus she isn't much of a listener. 

I told her my budget. She tells me my budget only allows for homes that need updating. "What is updating in your book?" I asked her. "Not updated homes don't have granite counters," was her reply. That's perfect because I am one of the only people I know who doesn't like granite. I said so, but she didn't hear. She was busy leading me to homes $150,000 more than my budget. 

She also was shoving 3,000 square foot homes in front of me. "I'd like something between 1,600 and 2,000 square feet." 

"Really? That's pretty small." Says who? That "small" home doesn't have to have the maintenance price tag of a home 1,000 square feet bigger. I'm not cooling, heating or paying taxes or insurance on a house that will probably be too big to fit our needs. 

Finally, she though she understood my thoughts and directed me to a dump she thought I could get it for $15,000 less than advertised. Now, truly, the price isn't my issue. I can qualify for whatever I want to qualify for. My budget is set by Marty and me. 

In the case of this dump, she was worried I wouldn't like the workshop in the back. That might make the house, "too big." As it turns out, I like to refinish furniture (something I'd tell her if she'd SHUT UP for three seconds). But that house was truly a dump. There was no mistaking this place as anything other than a redneck zone on a good day and a ghetto on a bad day. She thought it would be "great" for me because it wasn't 3,000 square feet and didn't have granite counters. 

In an effort to save my sanity, my dear friend Bliz is meeting me in Texarkana to come house hunting with me. She will be my voice of reason. And perhaps she may be my alibi if all does not go well.