House A Hunt'n

Nope

Sunday morning, Tessa met Marty and me at a house around the corner from Arizona Avenue. On paper, the home looked like something that would work for us. Four bedrooms. Three bathrooms. A laundry room that I was willing to camp in and live happily ever after. The house was approximately 400 square feet bigger than what we have now. Even the price was perfect. 

The reality was all of the above. In fact, I was willing to camp in the laundry room while Marty walked the property. However, through the magic of photography, the real estate agent had made the pictures look deceptive. We all marveled at the photographer's skills. Personally, I wish the camera could make me look taller and thinner in the same manner. 

After walking the home, Marty and I were resigned. It wasn't going to be for us. Even if we peeled the wallpaper, replaced the copious amounts of brass fixtures and painted the living room ceiling (who, I ask you, paints their ceiling brown?) the truth was, this was a house where we would be settling. 

I couldn't get past the kitchen. I loved my kitchen in Mesa. I like my kitchen on Arizona Avenue. this home's kitchen was meh. Even with the extra bedroom and a specialized place to put the cat box (the third bathroom), I couldn't come to grips with the weird kitchen. 

Marty couldn't get past the bedrooms. The two "children's bedrooms" were odd shaped and it seems that the architect had an aversion to rectangles. The fourth bedroom was going to be the family's hobby room and guest bedroom. 

When I pointed out to Marty our bed was too long for the narrow master, Tessa, the consummate sales pro--who has never seen our bed--argued that it would fit. Sure it would, but her butt is significantly smaller than mine. There would be about two feet from the end of the bed to the wall. However, my rule is never to buy a home strictly based on my current furniture. 

Speaking of Tessa, she is a great person--I really do like and respect her. She's a fabulous agent too. However, she's very much the "yes, but" kind of sales person. For example:

Me (talking to Marty): The way the house is positioned and the color of the walls and ceiling make the greatroom dark (a complaint I have in my current home too). 

Tessa: Yes, but you can paint the walls, add French doors and skylights. I know a shaman who, for a small fee, might be able to position the sun to shine exclusively in your home every day. 

Me (talking to Marty): How would you configure the couches in here? I don't think the recliner will fit. 

Tessa: Yes, but if you add a second story loft, you could put the recliner there. 

Me (talking to Marty): It looks like the garden will have to go over here, but the water source is over there. 

Tessa: Yes, but if you hire an abbot of Peruvian monks, they can carry the water from the Wake Village water tower to your garden twice a day.  

Please understand, I find this sales technique fascinating. It isn't a complaint. It is so ingrained in who she is, I doubt she notices it. Plus it is probably why she is the top agent in Texarkana. 

What the exercise did tell us is that we are open to moving for the right property. We knew this wasn't it. That's fine. The deal of the decade comes along once a week. Perhaps that will be next Saturday.