Well, we did not get that oh-so-perfect rental house I wrote about on Sunday night. Apparently, we should have had cash for first and last month’s rent plus the non-refundable cleaning deposit, when we walked through the door. Then I’d be telling you a different saga, about how great the place is and how I can’t wait to move in.
I hadn’t heard anything yet yesterday morning, and by 10am, I was just beside myself with anxiety. So, I emailed the landlord, not wanting to be too much of a pest, since I had already called him RIGHT after the open house, leaving a message about how much we loved the place, and to just call me and tell me what we could do to make it ours. He emailed me back. Here is the word for word: “Hi Betsy- I’m REALLY sorry… I liked you guys but someone came in with cash in hand-” That was it. No signature, nothing. So I wrote back: “Wow, can’t beat that, can you? Thanks again.” No signature, nothing.
Shocked by the unjustness of it all, and working through the bitter disappointment, everything I did all day seemed cursed. I kept day dreaming about the house that got away, sometimes with tears in my eyes and sometimes swearing about it. Anyways, I got through the day, and I think I am over it now. Well, maybe not totally- I’m still a little angry. So what’s the lesson in this sad story? Do we really have to bring a few thousand dollars to the next great place we tour, just to dazzle the landlord? Maybe so. I guess the real moral here, as hard as it is to swallow- is that it wasn’t the right house. As my sister said, “Who brings that much cash to an open house? They are probably drug dealers and it serves him right to have turned you down. Or maybe a tree is going to fall on the house or there will be a huge leak in the basement.” Thanks Aimee, I couldn’t have said it better myself!