House Hunting

Buying a house is one of the most important and exciting decisions one can make in life. There are so many different things to consider. Do I want a three bedroom or a four bedroom? How much can I afford? In case of hard times, how does a cardboard box sound? If it sounds good, would I mind being murdered and stuffed into a dumpster at some point, or would I prefer a friendlier neighborhood? These are all tricky questions.

Buying a house certainly can be a scary proposition. If I'm not careful I run the risk of ending up with more bedrooms than I need. This is why it's important to have a knowledgeable real estate agent at my side.

Once I've decided to get an agent, I have to be sure to find one who has my best interests in mind. To do this I usually pretend I'm from the CIA. Now we'll have a sense of camaraderie since we're both agents. Another benefit is that I get to use the whole "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you" routine to break the ice. Though, I'd probably make sure they knew that even though I'd be required to kill them, I'd enjoy it too. This way they'll know they have a fun guy on their hands and not just a stick in the mud.

As soon as I've found the ideal real estate agent, the exciting part begins. While he drives me around to look at properties, I have to make sure I don't miss anything. If I think we've driven past something worth seeing I'll just politely reach my leg over and slam on the brakes. I may even climb into his lap if I feel he has a better vantage point. Usually, after I've brought the car to a screeching halt for the seventeenth time, I'll decide the house is either too big, too small, not for sale, or not a house and we continue on for another few feet.

Not long after we've hit the streets my agent starts getting fussy and tries to persuade me to pull over. But I'm not giving up that easy. And besides, as luck would have it one of those trucks with the "Wide Load" signs just drove by carrying a brand new house, still in the plastic wrap. This was obviously meant to be. We need to catch up to that thing and schedule a tour before someone else does. As I steal the wheel away from my agent and put the pedal to the metal I have only one thing in mind, determining how many bedrooms the house has. I swerve in and out of traffic like I'm some kind of crazed lunatic as the tires squeal, people's horns blare, and my trusty agent sits beneath me and cries with what I bet is joy. "Oh yes!" I say, "We're house hunting now!" Then I pull out the pistol I usually carry with me and begin wildly firing it out the window to release some excitement.

As we approach my potential dream home, with police sirens roaring behind me, all I can think of is how I'll decorate the bathroom. Pulling up alongside the truck which carries the object of my affection, I motion for them to pull over, then I shoot out one of their tires to let them know I'm really interested in seeing the house. After this I watch in disappointment as the truck loses control, jack-knifes, and goes plunging off an overpass.

Standing at the edge of the overpass, I stare down at the wreckage in utter disbelief as I realize the house was only a two bedroom. Hardly worth getting all worked up over. Needless to say I no longer planned on setting up a tour. Now I just have to shake it off, reload my pistol, and jump back in my agent's lap for round two of house hunting.

As it turns out, however, my agent is usually pretty spent at this point. I can tell by the look of sheer terror on his face. And I know how he feels. That last house was such a big letdown that I'm half afraid to continue looking myself. No matter, I'll just put him in the trunk for safe keeping and continue my search.

When all is said and done I can pretty much guarantee I'll find the perfect home. And I don't care if it takes all year and a trunk full of agents to do it. When you are house hunting it is persistence, determination, and marksmanship that win the day. Luckily I have all three.