Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Sunset (Bird of Prey)

House hunt is still on. I put in an offer on this townhome, 5k lesser than asking price and asked seller to cover closing (another 5k-ish). Seller came back with conditions

1) Full price, seller covers closing
2) Seller needs 10 days to find another place, if not, the deal is off.
3) Seller needs possession for 3 days after closing.

What. The. Fuck. Give me something to work with, bitch. Having to full price is a little insulting because Indians are never satisfied until they get a discount. Condition #2 is a little worrying, what if the deal falls through mid-September? I won't have time to close on my "backup" homes and that will mean additional expenses, something I don't need right now fuck you very much. Condition #3 is just BS - after we close, it's my house asshole - get the hell out.

We told the selling agent that conditions 2 and 3 were unacceptable and he pretty much asked me to fuck off. Bastard. What part of ready buyer in a dead housing market don't you understand? You, the seller - could you be any less motivated? Here I am, throwing myself at your relic, and there you are making inane demands. My final offer this morning was full price, and a "yes" to both conditions as long as the seller drops 1k into an escrow account for safety during the 3 days of occupancy after closing. I am still enormously pissed off that I'm the one making all the compromises here. I hate being in this situation, I feel like a fucking pansy. I should hear back from them later in the day.

While I'm ranting, might as well get this off my chest. I hate fat jokes. While no one has had the guts to tease me for my beer belly, I see Indians around me toss around plenty of fat jokes. Why are we as a race so fucking insecure about our bodies? We want fair skin, big eyes, good hair, perfect bodies. Everything else is an object of derision. Sure, humans are all about unrealistic expectations, but why poke and prod at something that doesn't meet an impossible standard?

If you see someone whose body you want to make fun of, stop and think.

1) Do you sport a 6 pack under that clearance sale tee-shirt?
2) Does your partner resemble a reanimated statue from a Greek temple - genitals intact?
3) Are you incapable of holding on to chain a thought longer than 5 seconds thereby unable to find a personality flaw to make fun of?

If your answer is yes to all the conditions, then you're given a 3 second head start before you're chased down by a pack of rabid stray dogs (there's plenty of them in good ol' motherland). You will be rounded up and put in an enclosure sans clothes, in the company of India's right wing moral police. Good luck, suckers.

If your answer is no to any of the questions, you don't get the headstart. After a year in the cage, you'll be made to watch all episodes of Mind of Mencia, a la A Clockwork Orange, followed by 2 months of non-stop MTV programming. Enjoy your lobotomy.


shenanigans said...

I'm convinced estate agents of the world are all members of Club Vermin. Have encountered my share of them in Singapore, too. And hardly any that I wouldn't let go from a tall, tall building.

Thanatos said...

Guess they're a painful rash in real estate transactions all over the world.