So yesterday, my wife Julie and I made an offer on a house. At least I think it was yesterday. Between my anxiety (the realtor calls it “buyer’s jitters”) and the four hours of sleep I had last night (my stomach calls it “feed me one more energy drink and I’ll give you something to jitter about”), I’m not at my best right now. In other words, I should stay away from any task that requires more than 25% of my attention, which means operating heavy machinery is definitely OUT while, funny enough, I could still be Vice President.
Anyway, the offer’s been made. Now we just sit back and wait to hear if the current owners accept it. Our realtor Sandy says this is the easy part. Personally, I’m not so sure. Maybe it’s because Julie and I are first-time home buyers. Maybe it’s because this is the only house in Philadelphia we can afford and yet, we really can’t afford it. Or maybe it’s because I don’t believe a word that our realtor says.
Wait, I take that back. Sandy’s not a liar. She just lies a lot. No no, that’s not fair either. You see, it’s not so much lying as it is SAYING ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING TO MAKE A SALE, NO MATTER HOW ABSURD, RIDICULOUS AND SUGAR-COATED IN B.S. IT IS. In other words, she’s a fluent speaker of Shameless-ese (primary linguistic identifiers: over-exaggerating, saying a lot without saying anything, ending every sentence with “you’ve got to act fast!” and “this won’t be around tomorrow!”).
I’ll never forget the first time we met Sandy.
SANDY: Isn’t this place just DARLING?
ME: This is a sewage pond.
SANDY: Yeah, but think what you could do with it!
Sandy’s shameless attempts to make a sale continued over the next few weeks as she showed us a variety of properties: the studio in the city that didn’t have a kitchen (“You really don’t want a kitchen, anyway. They’re SO last millennium!”), the two-bedroom house with the noticeable breeze (“Those holes? It’s just termites. Think of the money you’ll save on air conditioning!”), and of course, the house with the reputation (“Yikes, you heard about that? Well don’t worry, that was months ago. There’s now a neighborhood watch program!”).
Though it took some time, Julie and I eventually learned a little Shameless-ese. And before long, we were able to shovel right through the flourishing mounds of B.S. See for yourself. The following dialogue has been closed-captioned for the Shameless-ese Impaired.
SANDY: This neighborhood has a lot of character!
TRANSLATION: This neighborhood has a lot of characters.
SANDY: You won’t need to worry about safety. This place has a built-in security system!
TRANSLATION: There’s bars on the windows.
SANDY: I’ve been selling homes for 25 years. I’m certified, bonded, licensed, insured, a member of several prestigious real estate organizations, and I give out 500 business cards a day. I promise I’ll find the home that’s PERFECT for you!
TRANSLATION: If you believe a word I’m saying, you’ve got the brains of marshmallow fluff.
But I can’t be too hard on Sandy. After all, it’s not like she’s the only one who speaks Shameless-ese. It’s also the language of choice for car salesmen, mechanics, and those people who call our house during dinner. But really, Sandy’s just doing her job; a job, by the way, that she does very well. And I say that not because she showed us 522 houses and NEVER ONCE stopped smiling (“I have a good feeling about this one!”), but because she somehow convinced us to sign an exclusive realtor agreement. Two days later, she found “the house.”
They say that when you’re looking for a home, you’ll know it when you see it. I don’t know, maybe that’s true — or maybe we were just so happy to find something that met our basic criteria: bedrooms, bathrooms, a kitchen. Satisfied with our decision, we went back to Sandy’s office to draw up the paperwork. There, Sandy brought us into what, I’m sure the folks at Ripley’s would say, is the smallest room ever built. Clearly, the miniscule room is intended to prevent the flow of oxygen to the brain, thereby turning even the toughest of buyers into a wiggly bowl of JELL-O.
Take a look at the game plan Julie and I conceived BEFORE going into that room:
JULIE: Okay, we've crunched the numbers and this (pointing to a reasonable number) is the highest we can go. Do you agree?
ME: You bet!
JULIE: Remember, this is the absolute highest we can go.
ME: Not a penny more. Let’s do this!
And here's what happened AFTER we entered Tiny Room:
SANDY: Before you speak, let me say something. I think you should offer this amount (points to a ridiculously high number).
ME: Here's a check!
See? I told you. J-E-L-L-O. Then again, what else could you expect from a guy who’s fluent in Sucker-ese.
© 2006 robbloom.com.
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