Some people thought I might be joking about the mold in the homes, but I’m not. Last Friday, we toured one house that was interesting, but I baulked at the large black and gray arc on the carpet around the bedroom window. I asked the realty agent if the owners would consider replacing the carpets, and she said she “could mention it.”
In the next house, vertical lines of mold were creeping up the lower portion of several walls. Everything in the home was 1960s era and appeared to not have been cleaned since then either.
“What do you think, Guys?” asked the realtor.
I couldn’t hide my opinion: “The house seems in really bad shape,” I said bluntly. “Is this bad or average?”
“Oh, it’s average,” she answered.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Han Solo.
Jeremy and I brainstormed that night and perused different options online. A modern apartment downtown was starting to look better and better, but we did have one more appointment on Monday to see a house on the edge of town, at 63 Spottiswoode Street. It had looked cute on the outside, but we knew what lurked on the inside.
Monday afternoon we arrived to the house without much enthusiasm. A young mother was also there to see the house, along with her melt-your-heart-like-butter cute little girl in pigtails. The realtor arrived and took us all inside. Something was strange. It was cute; it was renovated; it was tidy; it was clean…it was great! Funny how the nice Mommy noticed the same thing. Suddenly little Pigtails wasn’t so cute anymore; she was my archrival in pursuit of sanitary living conditions.
“Yes, it’s a wonderful house,” the realtor was explaining. “It won’t last; you’ll have to be quick. The owners are moving out, and it’s the first time it’s been rented. They want to be sure the right people get the house. Everyone will get a fair chance, but the owners will make the decision.”
Next, the realtor showed us the owners’ little girl’s room, all decked out in pink. “Look at this room, Sweetie,” said the realtor to little Pigtails.
We’re doomed.
The realtor handed out the application forms for the house, and Mommy said, “We’ll get this back to you straight away.” We took our form to the car and started filling it out. The situation looked even worse as we answered the questions and remembered that we had no jobs, no New Zealand personal references, and no New Zealand payment history or credit.
“There’s no way we’re getting this,” I said, and Jeremy agreed.
The realtor called that night to clarify a few points on our application, and said she’d call us back the next day. We didn’t hear from her all the next day. We tried to forget about the place.
This morning, Maureen the realtor called to offer us 63 Spottiswood, and we couldn’t believe it. She said we could come in at 3:15 to sign the paperwork. In addition, she said the owners would like to sell us some of their furniture and appliances.
When we got into the office this afternoon, I asked Maureen how we had lucked out. She looked really confused because apparently “lucked out” means “lost out” and “you’re a big loser.” (This will be important to remember in the future.) Once she got finished laughing at us, she explained that the other applicants actually had three children and one on the way, and the owners were more comfortable renting their home to just a couple. I sincerely hope Pigtails finds a good mold-free home (really).
And thanks to the Letting Centre for assisting us in securing a house.
We’ll be moving in on November 16th. Stay tuned for photographs of your new guest house and neighborhood.
All the best,
Marisa
