The following tale could be told, all story elements considered, over the course of an hour. I shall, for sake of blog aesthetics, keep it brief.
Ingrid and I decided not too long ago that it was time to look for a house. We went through the movements – contacted a mortgage broker, then contacted a real estate agent – and found ourselves seriously looking at houses. As in, “come to the house for 2pm and have a look”.
You learn very quickly what it is that you want, by virtue of what you don’t like: suspicious patch jobs, poorly graded foundations, murky unfinished basements. Then, of course, comes price. Finding a house – a good house – in downtown Toronto for a decent price is difficult. All the talk in the media about flailing real estate markets may be correct on the whole, but I can tell you from experience that downtown Toronto prices are still inflated (or, at the very least, stuck at pre-recession-2008 prices).
Ingrid then left for a week’s vacation to see a friend (and sometimes-bandmate of mine) in London, England. Two days after she left, I receive a house listing via email from our real estate agent – look at this, she says, it’s perfect for you two. I was afraid of this; I lived in terror that this would happen – that, while Ingrid was away, I would find a house and (because the downtown buyers’ market is still strong) would need to make a quick decision as to whether or not to put in an offer. I saw the place on Friday (same day I received the email) and needed to have an answer for Sunday. Nice house. Nice owners. Great neighbourhood. Good price, considering house, owners, and neighbourhood.
Long story short, I bought a house that Sunday which Ingrid has never seen, save for photos and descriptions sent via email. I am currently going through a swirling mass of elation, buyer’s remorse, stress, and raw, drug-like excitement. I swear, my life mirrors B-movies and 80s TV shows sometimes.
Thankfully, she lands in Toronto tomorrow, so I will not be the only one trying to get a handle on this. I cannot even imagine – on her end – how surreal an experience this must’ve been.
I also don’t want to see my phone bill.
Well? Well? Did she like the house?
I haven’t seen the inside in person – only photos, which I’ve magnified and stared at for hours. However, I think it is swell, and I’m proud he went ahead and bought it.
Hurray!
I've said it before, but once again – congratulations on your new home! It's also quite an ace story that you went ahead and did this without Ingrid (not that there was much choice in the matter!) – and it seems to have worked out… I wonder if my Partner would be brave enough to do that without me… lol! 🙂
Thanks Jules – it certainly is a test of how well a couple understands each other's likes and dislikes. It will be an interesting/new direction for us.
Update: I've seen inside now – twice, in fact. I can happily, joyously report that Matt made the right decision. (Not that I ever doubted him.)