Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Good Honest Folk

We looked at a lot of places.  I looked at about twice as many as we looked at, since I have free time and a car.  The place we settled on was the owners unit of a place in Ballard.  It was great, it was new, it had the feel of a place that had been managed by professionals and carefully cultivated to appeal to the prospective renter.  As prospective renters we felt it's appeal, and we were sold.  

That's where things began to go a little odd.  We ceased our pursuit at that point, and began working on finalizing the deal.  We were told there was one other group ahead of us, but they didn't have a very strong application, so it was pretty much in our pocket.  A tense weekend, and Monday comes around.  There's a lot of pretty frantic texting back and forth between me and our real estate contact.  She holds up a number of hoops, and we expertly jump through them.  The last exchange was setting up a time we could all meet and sign the lease.  Which is when she told me that there was some confusion.   See, she thought she was texting with the other group, the one ahead of us, and it turns out that all the hoops we had just jumped through were going to be offered to them.  They jumped through them, and victory was snatched from us at the last possible moment.

The hunt went on.

We looked at a number of other places, and when things were good we settled on another place.  This one lacked the professional sheen, a word I'm using because I don't know how to spell veneer.  We walked around this one with the same eye for potential, but we knew, and those who own the property knew, that it was going to take some work.  They planned, and still plan, to do a great deal of that work for us, but our visions go beyond the simple fix ups and more into the realm of improvements.  Customizations perhaps.   

When we talked things out with them we had the exact opposite experience.  They were good honest folk who wanted to rent out this property.   They had some credit check forms that they pulled fresh from the bag, staple's price tag still on the bag, and when they weren't quite sure how it all went they took a good look at us, and they did something that no major institution can do.  

They trusted us.

They knew that we were good kids, that we wouldn't screw things up, and that when all was said and done we would be good for the house.  We will be too.  We, mostly I, have a lot of plans for that place, and by the time we move out it's going to be worth a lot more then it is now, and I like that.  I like that because the house is, by it's nature, what I wanted it to be.  It's a place were I can learn, and grow, and mature.  And as I do, the house itself will mature.  I know it's a weakness of mind, but when the symbolism lines up so perfectly I can not help but feel the subtle pull of fate.  And as someone who works so much with distant institutions who function along protocol, and more often then not automated programming, it's a true relief to be working with good honest folk for once.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

good for you.

11:44 AM  

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