Friday, March 17, 2006

Losing the Red Cred

I didn't blog much about the people who bought our house. Much of it was due to a chronic case of magical thinking and I didn't want to jinx the sale by hating on the people doing the buying. But now that that's over, I can divulge with glee some of the goings-on.

It's not much -- missed rental payments, lies, broken contracts, and so on. All of this conspired to make me one angry landlord.

A couple of weeks ago, when the whole deal seemed to be falling apart by the hour, I called up the buyer and gave her an ultimatum.

"Buyer, I'm wondering if you can explain to me what's going on."

Buyer gave me a huge song and dance explanation about what was going on. Short version: Her mom (who was actually doing the buying) had out of the blue hired a lawyer to go over the purchase agreement, and no one knew why. Was she trying to get out of it? What? But Buyer was SO excited to buy the house, there WASN'T a problem, ignore that lawyer standing behind the curtain, and believe me because every single thing I've ever said to you has come true, hasn't it?

(Well, no, it hadn't.)

It was then that I opened my mouth and heard my mouth say, "I really, really hope that's the case. We are losing money every day you are in that house and the closing doesn't happen. I'll tell you right now that Matt is ready to drive down tomorrow and start the eviction process."

Well! Indeed! The most amazing thing is, she stopped talking. There was silence on the line. I couldn't tell who was more surprised, me or her. She spoke again, much more slowly, and said things would turn out OK.

I called Matt. "I'm a land baron! I'm a bank! I just threatened someone with eviction!" I started reciting "Kill My Landlord." So much for "Peace, Land, Bread."

If that weren't enough, I put down an organizing campaign in my own house the other day. As I was cleaning up after breakfast and getting Maia's lunch ready, she was giving a monologue on how she would like a pink princess dress that's sparkly. She said this six or seven times in slightly different ways, the way toddlers do, and I was giving her the "Mm-hm" treatment.

"Can I have a princess dress that's pink and has sparklies on it?" she asked.

"No, Bug," I said. "Would you get your shoes on, please?"

She stopped and put her hands on her hips. "I no put my shoes on bikaz you wuddent get me a princess dress that's pink and has sparklies on it!"

I stopped and put my hands on my hips. "Maia. That's not how it works around here. Get your shoes on."

"Aw!" said Matt when I told him later. "She was just collective bargaining!"


  1. *tsk*

    I think some pennance might be in order. I declare that you will spend the weekend with "Joe Hill" (the Joan Baez version) stuck in your head. Starting... Right... NOW. ;)

  2. Anonymous9:44 PM

    Maia whispered to me this afternoon that she just knows someone will remember that all she wants for Christmas is a princess dress.
    What's a grandma to do?

  3. Aw, don't feel guilty. Being progressive does not mean being a doormat, or letting someone abuse the system at your expense. You did the right thing - especially since they started the whole litigious threat business.

  4. So is that the primary purpose for women having hips, so they can put their hands on them when they're mad?