We are no longer home owners. The inaugural moments of this nomadic season began in a Prudential conference room on July 31st, surrounded by the comforts of my DD iced coffee, my sexy real estate partner (Jason), and the pungent aroma of complimentary ("thanks for selling your house to our client") donuts waifing through the air. Fortunately for me, donuts possess a uniquely Pavlovian significance-triggering nostalgic carbohydrate memories. With my Southern Living magazine for perusal during the prolific paperwork, it was almost like a morning at the shore...Until our effusive buyers began their animated narrative about their undergrad. frat days. Perhaps the most memorable quip of the settlement was when our licenses were requested for photocopying, which prompted the sorority sister girlfriend to exclaim, "I feel like I am at a bar!" Exactly my sentiments. WHAT-?! This jolted me from my near transcendent beach experience. So in love and prickling with anticipation at this new chapter in their lives, the buyers explained that ONLY the boyfriend would be responsible for the mortgage, but would give his girlfriend (NOT FIANCE or WIFE or SISTER) co-ownership on the deed. I think we can thank the fraternity hazing days for this brilliant legal strategy. In sum, we said goodbye to our first home that morning. It was lovely and perfect for us- for that season. Naturally, we took photos. It's what our commemorative, scrap-booking generation does. We hope to commemorate the purchase of our next home in early 2009- (It will be a good time for inaugurations- McCain-Romney 08'!!)
1 comment:
Ahahhaaahha...I am laughing as I am picturing your expression when the girl said she feels like she is at the bar. In my mental image, you are still smiling politely across the table and yet to anyone who knows you even remotely, they can tell your eyes are saying I am surrounded by IDIOTS! Congrats on your sale. Are you looking to stay in that area?
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