Miss Sally and I looked at houses this weekend. Nothing like looking though other people's underwear drawer, realizing that someone is doing the same thing at your house.
One home we went to is in a great neighborhood. The house needs SOME work.
S- Shingles on the roof
O- Odor throughout with the hint of dog– needs new carpet
M-Musty,wet basement needs patched and vented
E- Every scrap of 60’s era wallpaper needs to come down (which I don’t get because the place was built in the 80s.)
SOME will cost about $25,000. Everything is negotiable.
As we toured the house, I was taken back in time. Not just because of the wallpaper, but there was a smell throughout the house that reminded me of college. A smell of another smell that was trying to cover up the smell of the first smell. An aroma of burnt rope and Patchouli oil.
I immediately thought of the 25ish dude who was still living at home with his mom. He helped to drag the stinky dog out to the “beautiful tree-lined back yard.” His bedroom had a mattress on the floor, a guitar, a fan blowing in the corner and an unused grooming kit on the dresser. I say unused due to the physical appearance of the guy. But I should also say partially unused except for the nail file which had a thick coating of resin on it. Either the dude has a thick tarry resin build-up on his fingernails or he’s smoking a shitload of weed. What the hell is he going to do when mom sells the house and kicks him to the curb?
Ten years from now, my kid is going to be rummaging through the crawlspace and find a long lost zip-lock bag filled with weed and papers and lost dreams of touring with the band. I’ll know for sure when my kid asks me to buy him a guitar.