Remember I mentioned a dinner party last weekend? C'mon, this is a reading comprehension quiz. I'm waiting...Ok, now that you've gone back and reread it, I'll continue. A friend emailed me and asked about the layout of the house. I think they were casing the place.
I explained that I only really saw the great space that incorporated the living room, dining room and kitchen. And the crawl space that incorporated the guest bath and potpourri/toilet paper warehouse. Unless you were set on getting a lavender high and squeezing the Charmain, my memory wasn't going to do you any good.
My friend emailed back that they were asking because they liked looking at houses for decorating ideas, and that it was just a "Girl thing."
It's not a girl thing. Not really. Although guys won't admit it, we do the same thing. Oh sure, we look at different stuff, but that doesn't mean we're not checking things out.
"Did you see their pot rack?"
"No, I was too busy rubbing up against surround system."
It's still casing for ideas. MyUnwife and I used to do that all the time. It was like dating for the married, before the great housing crash of 07. We'd go look at model homes. You know, check out how their decorators handled things. Sometimes you gotta know what it would be like if we had a spa tub, a picture window, and an armada of floating candles in your bathroom.
"Hi! We're just sharing ideas about what you could do if this was your bathroom."
"Uhm, it looks like you're sharing more than ideas."
"Yeah, We're friendly people. Speaking of friendly, could you bring us some cheese and wine from the reception area?"
That's not just me. I'd say 4 out of 5 home shoppers surveyed, own a home and have no intention on moving. I think it's something about marriage. Sitting at the dinner party, there were three guys sitting and talking paint and wallpaper over port and dessert. The single guy, he'd never been married, he tried to veer towards more single-manly topics. Me, I'd already been indoctrinated. I knew the liturgy. I knew when to stand, when to kneel, and when to say "Yes mistress." Talking home décor was just an extension of the service.
That's one thing that didn't go away when MyUnwife left. I still look at the house saying, "I think I should…." Of course I can't afford it, so most of it's just talk. When I get some money, my next big project is my garage door, then the side gate. Woo Hoo! Yeah, call me Martha Stewart.
No really, go ahead. I kinda like it.
The one thing I can't do anymore is go look at model homes. It hurts too much. Oh, it has nothing to do with MyUnwife, it's just that with the housing market the way it is, the sales people are lions circling for prey.
You have to travel in herds. Any stragglers left alone in a house can find themselves disemboweled. Somebody's already taken my balls, I'd like to keep my guts. Well I do get the balls back after the divorce, but still, guts are nice. I like them. They give me something to hide.
"Mr. Boyd…you can't hide forever. We only want to talk…mortgages are very affordable right now. Please come out, you're only making things harder on yourself."
Yeah, I'm clinging to the ceiling like some tubby ninja slathered in superglue praying nobody sees dripping Mr. Bubble or the bathwater. Don't look up. I'd have hidden in the hall closet, but the carcass of their last kill is still stowed in that weird troll space in the back--beneath the stairs. And what other than bodies and closet trolls can you store there?
Next time you go looking at homes check the ceiling. Is there a canopy of flesh? That was me. Don't slip in the puddle, and whatever you do, don't open the closet.
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