ouch. that’s gonna leave a mark.
We’re being booted, the cat and I. Well, I guess that’s not 100% true. We could stay. But it would be stupid of us.
Finally had “the talk” with the new owner of my apartment building. Guess I knew it was coming for a while now…especially since Aaron (the real estate attorney who disappeared or died or whatever) brought me the paperwork proof on our last ill-fated date. Yes, the building is going condo.
No big deal, I thought. I’ll just buy my unit (or the unit next door because it has a slightly better view). I can surely afford to buy the place as-is. This place is old and kinda run down and needs oodles of TLC. But I’m just the person to be able to do it. So sure. Let me nurse this apartment back to health. It would be a joy.
So I called New Owner and he told me he could be at my place around noon today. Fine. I did my thing and he came over and started looking around….”heeeeyyyy, you’ve really done a lot with this place! It looks great!” Um yeah. Why don’t you have a seat? He sat and I did too. We smiled politely at each other. I was even noticing how cute he is. Small talk. Yada. And then he pulled out the pricelist that had all of the units in the building listed.
Cue the screeching brakes.
There on the sheet with all of the other orphan apartments was my poor little band-aided home, listed for well over twice the price I thought it would be. I’m not positive, but I think my eyes did one of those bug-out things. I sputtered and stuttered and actually choked back tears. I looked at New Owner in utter shock and awe. I almost laughed, thinking it was a joke.
But New Owner said that we would be getting central heat and air and a new elevator. And used the excuse that this is a prime location and that we have great views from this building (not so much) and blah, blah, and by this time I couldn’t hear anything he was saying because I just wanted him O-U-T so I could come to grips with the fact that I’m going to have to find a new place to live in the coming months.
As soon as I shut the door on New Owner’s sorry butt, I dialed the phone. My poor dad. As soon as he picked up, the flood gates opened. He quickly handed the phone to my mom who did what she does best. She brought me back to reality, wiped my tears from a distance, and told me that this is simply another opportunity to make some more decisions. Time for more change. And change is inevitable. And it can be good if I make it that way. How I love her so.
Guess it’s simply time to try on some new boots. Perhaps a strappy little number?
Loading comments...