house hunting does not involve guns of any kind, just puppies

image has been digitally enhanced and perhaps photoshopped. perhaps.

i don't know if i've told you but chuck and i are looking for a ... HOUSE! i've always, always, always! wanted a house. ever since my father threatened to remove the door of my room when i was a teenager. then i moved into an apartment. i reeeeeeally wanted a house of my own. next, i got a dog. that meant i could almost not survive without a house of my own. subsequently, i moved back in with my parents and i wanted to frickin kill myself. i went into a pit of despair with my house neediness. then i moved in with chuck.

we were very happy.

we were very happy in our one bedroom apartment. we cuddled on our queen sized bed.* and then it wasn't big enough. however, we got a king sized bed. plus, we purchased a stellar couch.

we were very happy. again.

last august came along and our lease was up in october. we thought about getting a house but the lease date came and went. no house. shortly thereafter, the one bedroom apartment began closing in around us. the dogs seem to be at least twelve times as big as they were last year. currently we're back at around the same time of year. we've been looking at houses like mad. we even found one. and here's the story of the house we really liked and really, really want.

don't we find everything online these days? i think that's what the kids are doing. those crazy kids. our realtor's name is sam. we found sam online. but then we met sam in a neighborhood. in front of a house. we walked in the house, it was awful, smelly and yucky. we saw one more house. meh. the third house, the third house was a real dooze.

sam knocked on the door. sam rang the bell. sam started jiggling around the little boxy thing that held the keys to the house. he turned around to look at chuck to answer his question, while at the same time finally opening the door. and out rushed a wee happy puppy! scaring poor sam half to death. a teenage girl followed the puppy half heartedly. "...no!... come back... stop... stop, comeback...."

sam was obviously freaked out. freaked out. a staccato of questions followed, "did they tell you we were coming? didn't they call you? they were supposed to tell you we were coming. they were supposed to call you!" the girl said, "uh... no?" sam asks, "well, do you mind? can we come in? can we look at the house? is that alright?" the girl replies, "uh.... .... sure? come in?"

so, we went in. we entered the lion's den. the wolves' lair. the shittiest shithole you ever did see. the girl went back to the only soft horizontal surface available in the house and sat down. with her teenage boy. friend. surrounding them was a sea of filthy brown stained berber carpet.

they were comfortably watching tv with their half-assed polar fleece blanket curtains and their braziers on the floor and their doors that were only half attached and or fist hole punched. they were quite at home in the den, calmly ignoring the back rooms that had piles of dog dooty in the middle of the floors, an almost opaque gold fish tank including a knife on the fake fish gravel and a bowl perched precariously "hiding" in one of the closets. they blissfully sat, on their lovely futon, seemingly unaware of the complete and utter uninhabitableness of their lovely home.

but, my god, the layout! it was perfect. but, my god, the neighborhood! the best we had seen so far! but, my god, the location! so convenient. but, your god, the chaos, the clutter, the confusion! what ever will we do? where ever will we go?

after picking our way back through the debris and disarray, we arrived on the front lawn. chuck and i looked at each other in wonder and yes, a little excitement. this could be our chance! our chance to break into a neighborhood that we really shouldn't be able to afford. fingers crossed.

sam follows shortly afterward, apologizing for the mess and the presence of teenagers, "i hate when that happens! i'm sooo sorry. they're supposed to know. and the mess!" he gives us both a knowing smile, eye widening and head tilt to the right. he's perfected his sympathetic look.

when i go back to work. we look up the background info on the internet. we note the last person to have bought the house. i've already made a story up in my head. obviously this girl's father and or mother have died pr moved away. somehow, she's there and can't pay the mortgage (the house is a short sale). her bf moves in there and he takes advantage and trashes the place with his friends while she retreats into herself and watches her childhood home become a shithole.

my boss says, "i know that name!" and runs off to her computer to look it up. i roll my eyes and go back to the fantasy.... she scampers back into my office grinning, "there was a drug bust!" "what?" "there was a drug bust on that block and the girl's last name is the same!" "nooooo..."

it's true. the house was busted for marijuana a few weeks ago. and they can't even hide their frickin bowl while showing the frickin house? jesus! but- but- but the house! it's so cool! it has a pool! and it's right near a park! for the dogs! well, i guess the saying is true, you gotta kiss alotta frogs before finding the prince, er, you gotta walk through alotta shitholes before finding the right shithole. the shithohle with potential.

and that's the time becky and chuck wanted to buy a drug house. and also implied that two kids with bowl were dealing and not just playing music a little too loudly a little too late at night and got busted just the same.


*not really, that fuckin bed was fuckin trying to kill me with it's springs springing all over the fuckin place.