Hunting For A House: On a Scale From Seat Belt Safety to Getting Shot From a Cannon

After making a slightly drunken offer on a completely inappropriate house last weekend, Randy and I regrouped and went hunting for a house today.

Randy looked at 5 houses today while I was at work and found two that he sounded excited about.

I wish I could convey how very much it takes for Randy to sound excited, so if he sounded excited, then I felt some relief that perhaps we won’t be homeless after all. 

So, I left work an hour early to see the two houses Randy liked.

Both houses are in the same neighborhood, which is about 45 minutes south from where we live now.

We were driving during rush hour, which I kind of wanted because my commute will at least triple in time and I wanted to get a feel for how long it would take to get home from work in the evening.

We merged from the exit ramp onto I-75 south and Randy glanced over at me.

Randy usually checks to make sure I have my seat belt on. Almost always, I don’t.

I am not seat belt averse, I just forget to put it on because my car is only nosy about whether or not I am wearing my seat belt if I am driving and I am reminded to put it on by the annoying seat belt alarm. My car does not have an opinion about the passenger wearing a seat belt.

Me: Were you checking if I have my seat belt on? Because I do.

Randy: No.


Randy: I sort of checked if you had your seat belt on.

Me: You can’t sort of check for something. Either you checked or you didn’t.

Randy: Well, I just really like the way your boobs look when you have your seat belt on.


Me: Hey? Hey! You mean, for all these years when you nag me about my seat belt, it starts by you looking over at me because you like the way my boobs look with my seat belt on?

Randy: Ummmm.

Then I laughed until I cried.

Me: That’s the funniest thing ever. I mean, I thought, all these years, that you were checking for my safety, but you were just being a lech.

Randy: Well, I do want you to be safe. But I also like looking at you with a seat belt on.

Me: Weirdo.

We drove by the first house an hour before our appointed time, rush hour traffic wasn’t bad at all. This is a holiday week, though, traffic is usually light on a holiday week.

We passed a little microbrewery on the way in, so we went back to hang out there for a bit.

The seating area consisted of a small bar and 3 or 4 tables.

Randy listened in while people at the bar talked music and I could feel him getting getting twitchy. If there is a conversation about music going on anywhere near Randy, then he really wants to join in.

So, that is how we met Paul, one of the owners of the brewery.

Within five minutes of meeting Paul, he picked up a wooden chair and balanced it on his chin. He explained that he went to clown college and traveled with the circus for years as a clown, which was pretty cool because I have never met a professional clown before.

Randy went up to the bar to settle up and I told Paul we were looking at houses in the area. He was very enthusiastic about the little river town. I told him that we were hoping to buy our death house.

His face lit up.

Paul: I have an idea for a business. A euthanasia idea. When you get really old and just don’t want to be here anymore, then I can shoot you out of a cannon. It will be spectacular.

Me: That would be a really interesting and disturbing way for a very old person to die. I’m in.

Me: I’ve known you for five minutes and you balanced furniture on your face and offered to shoot me out of a cannon to kill me should I choose to exit life on my own terms. I’m taking this as a good sign for our house hunting.

We met Brett at the first house and my enthusiasm was leaking out all over the place. The owners were home, which is weird, but I totally get it. I hated leaving my house knowing strangers were in my space looking at my stuff. It’s weird. Anyway, Brett told me to play it cool. And I tried. I really did.

Me: This kitchen is just okay. I mean, if you like marble counter tops and a badass gas stove, then it’s not bad. Also, all the cabinet space is tiresome.

Brett: You are really not convincing.

We made an offer on the first of the two we looked at. This is a much better fit for us.

First, the house is not clinging to the side of a mountain. Second, the kitchen is amazing. And most important, the backyard is almost completely paved. There is some front yard landscaping which will need to be taken care of, but other than that, almost no yard work. I am a huge fan of not doing yard work.

Brett, our real estate agent, followed us back to the microbrewery and we signed all the paperwork for the offer. Paul was gone by then, which was too bad, because I kind of wanted to see what he would do next.

So, to sum up:

  • Randy’s concern for my safety is secondary to how amazing my boobs look when they are separated by a seat belt strap. I had no idea. 
  • We met someone who can balance furniture on his face while carrying on a conversation and who offered to kill me by cannon at the time of my choosing.
  • I suck at playing it cool.
  • Also, hopefully, we bought a house.

I hope this works out.

I would make a terrible homeless person.


Photo courtesy of Bru-nO


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  • That’s amazing! All good vibes of getting the house, I am sending your way.
    Also, the seatbelt thing is hilarious. Too funny.

  • If nothing else you got to meet a guy who can balance a chair on his face. Also sometimes you just can’t play it cool. Sometimes you have to depend on the kindness of strangers.
    I know you’ve said previously that you don’t believe in omens but, damn, Paul was both kind and strange. And probably not an omen but still a good sign.

  • I would definitely take meeting a clown/bar owner as a good sign. I know a guy who went to clown school, also to a Buddhist seminary (same guy). Turns out, clowns are cool after all. Also, it doesn’t suck to find out, in your 50s, that your husband is checking your boobs on the regular. I found out that mine likes the way I look in certain accessories. I told him to accessorize me. He did. Buckle up and enjoy the anticipation. Also, good luck on the house ; – )

  • Yay! Good luck! Of course they’ll accept your offer, because it will be so awesome moving when it’s 100 degrees out and 100% humidity! Hahaha

  • Squeeeeeee!
    So happy and relieved for you that it is almost over!
    Sending happy positive thoughts. And congrats on the seatbelt thing 😉

  • I used to work with a guy named Stuart who liked to balance things on his nose (mostly those big cardboard squares that separate pallets from the freight on them) but he seemed more like a seal than a clown.
    I knew there would be houses out there that you would like.
    I advise against getting shot out of a cannon, but at least he’s offering it to the live and willing. It reminded me a little of the movie “The Loved One” in which a cemetery owner schemes to blast dead bodies into space in rockets to make more money “I’ve got to get these stiffs off of my property…”
    Professional movers are a good idea, if you get good ones, said the former professional mover.
    I always wear my seat belts because as a former professional driver I have seen the hideousness that happens when you don’t.
    I’m glad Randy was excited, just in general, but also because, to quote Joe Biden, this is a big fucking deal.
    Soon you will be home again.

    • Thank you…this made my throat loosen up a little. It will be a while before the new place feels like home and I have no sentimental attachment to this house, but right now I am so tired and overwhelmed that I want to take everything back and stay here. Even though I know we’re doing the right thing.

  • YAY! It’s after 2:00 MY time, so … What’s The Deal? Did they accept your offer? Do you get to move into your “okay” kitchen and completely grassless backyard?

    I’m excited for you, no matter what. If not this one, then Randy will find you another one that he can get excited about and then check out your boobages safely strapped in.


    • I think we’re good. I mean, there are still papers to sign. And, we don’t have the final word on the sale of our house. We’re still waiting if the appraisal raised any questions. I don’t see why it would, but still.

  • Now I wanna see your boobs in a seatbelt, too …

    Ummm…. dare I say, the signs are good?


  • I have been quietly reading this saga so far. Well not so quietly if you count the laughter…

    I am a total believer in good omens and the microbrewery with the owner who is a clown and a right-to-die enthusiast cemented it for me. I hope it works out perfectly for you! And Randy is awesome for coming clean on the seat belt/boob issue! My hubs would say something just like that.

    • He was pretty funny. This transaction fell through. They sold the house to someone else, even though we had a contract. Brett says we can take legal action against them, but we don’t need that stress on top of everything else.

  • 1. I am super-excited about your maybe-house and your new friend, even if he’s secretly a clown.

    2. Even if your giant-kitchen house doesn’t work out and you’re homeless, you’ll be living in your car. With the seatbelt right there to make your boobs look awesome. So at least Randy will be happy!

    3. Playing it cool is overrated. There are loads of people out there who get weird about selling their house and want it to go to someone who really loves the place the way they did, or who get put off a buyer who disses their home and their stuff. So there’s a chance your strategy of gushing about everything could convince them to accept a lowball offer. (See? I can justify anything.)

By Michelle


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