I haven’t been blogging regularly for a number of reasons I hope to talk about soon, but right now I need to laugh instead. So let’s play a guessing game.
I live in the middle of nowhere (“Angelborough” is a Native American word meaning “It’s about ten miles away”) and every morning I’ve been driving one of my kids to day camp in TenMilesAway. En route we pass a house for sale. It has been for sale for the past two years, and I believe it may have been listed prior to that as well.
The house is tiny, almost entirely swallowed up by the woods at the end of a dirt driveway. When the for-sale sign reappeared this week, I looked it up on the real estate website, and I found something like this:
Price reduced! $95,000! Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, on three acres. Wooded lot. Ideal location.
The “ideal location” part seems true. It’s about five minutes away from Main Street in TenMilesAway, and it’s at the juncture of two main roads.
It’s been listed for almost two years, according to the website. In a neighborhood where houses can reach seven figures. Why wouldn’t someone have bought it, knocked it down, regraded the lot, and built something new?
My mom said, “Is the property underwater?” I said, “Well, it does often seem to be surrounded by puddles, and it’s at the bottom of a mountain.”
But that’s too prosaic, so let’s amuse ourselves: why is that house not selling? What is the realtor disclosing prior to making an offer that deters anyone from actually buying it?
Guess Number One: The last three owners saw a headless woman walking down the hall, carrying a headless baby.
Guess Number Two: When someone says, “I’ve decided to make an offer,” his own realtor says, “I just want you to know this is the fifth time I’ve sold that house, and every year, the new owner dies on July 5th at midnight. Even the guy who was out of the country.”
Post your own guesses. I’m sure I’m not the only one who could use a few laughs.