"Louise, come down here," Sarah called.
Even from the stairwell, I could see worn blue/green carpet. "I don't think so," I said. There's nothing like an old basement to bring on night terrors in the middle of the afternoon.
Sarah stepped into the doorway and looked up. "There's a special surprise down here."
"This IS special," Nancy cried.
I walked down into a room that had a corner fireplace made of green boulders, but that wasn't the surprise.
"Look," Sarah pointed at a "couch" made of green rocks set in cement along with two built-in end tables.
"Oh," I say, "Oh, I want to take the name of the Lord in vain."
Sarah and Nancy guffaw. Here are the pictures taken with Nancy's cell:
Notice the sharp edge of that end table.
This is not a free-standing couch. The only way to remove it is a jack hammer. I personally think that Jimmy Hoffa is buried in that thing (or someone's husband).
Anyway, it was a deal breaker.
What's the worst thing you've ever seen when looking for a house?
Ours was plaster stalactites hanging from the ceiling. "Oh, I can knock those down in an evening," Tom said with all the confidence of a thirty-year old. It actually took about seven nights, and then he got a swollen and painful elbow, which was diagnosed as gonorrhea.
I have found the horrid things in life make for the funniest stories later.
By the way, I would recommend Nancy as a realtor to anyone in the Salt Lake area. She is so efficient.
I was sitting in the car with her after Sam arrived, and she had entered the next address into the gps and couldn't find it. Then she turns to me and says, "Oh, I'm in Kentucky."
We both peed our pants.