There are a number of reasons why I did it. Good friends of mine had been doing it and I felt left behind. I'm out of the running for a husband and children aren't my sport so I thought I could compete in this one arena.
Although my dating life is still enough of a disaster to warrant some sort of special mention by CNN's Anderson Cooper, it's stopped bothering me -- for today at least. My $10,000 chin was a bit of a concern but that sort of money coming out of my pocket seems too abstract an idea to really rattle me, so perhaps I felt a slippery slope between a $10,000 chin and spending like I'm J.Lo.
And so I got pre-approved for a mortgage.
Seriously. Some mortgage broker found some lending institution stupid enough to give me more than a quarter of a million dollars. Obviously neither the broker nor the lending institution are aware I own purses with the price tags still on them, or that I only recently remembered I had money coming out of my account for a gym I haven't driven past in more than a year, or that I always over tip because I can't do percentages in my head. Essentially, I should not be a candidate for a mortgage.
Once pre-approved I felt I needed to act. It was only a matter of time before somebody took a closer look at my credit history and revoked my approval. I called up a realtor that same afternoon and by God I was going for the ultimate shopping high.
Real estate is interesting in Victoria. Industry insiders have special terminology they use to describe the local housing market, and I've since picked up their 'lingo,' and am now in the know, so bear with with me should you not understand the real estate jargon unique to this city. In short, the market in Victoria is so fucking fucked up it's not even fucking funny so...fuck!
I understand why many people would want to live here. I understand why Asian and American investors want to buy here and I understand why oldsters who spent the better part of their lives freezing their dangling parts off in the prairies want to retire here. I understand why developers build only 'luxury' condos or townhouses and I understand I am not their target market.
I understand that there are people out there who make enough money to consider the majority of homes starting at $600,000 to be perfectly reasonable, but what I don't understand is just what in the fuck I'm supposed to do. (See? You're already catching on to Victoria real estate lingo too!)
Too poor to ever think about owning a house in this city, I'm shopping for an entry-level condo/apartment that will not require me to use a food bank to feed myself. Therein lies the problem. No such property exists.
Every decent property is just slightly out of my reach. I either can't afford it at all, or can barely afford it which actually feels worse. I don't want to give my entire life over to my mortgage. I don't want to have to save money to buy a chocolate bar and I don't want to panic should I run out of deodorant and not be able to buy more because I chose to eat that day.
My salary must be just slightly lower than so many others because the competition for over-priced entry-level condos is fierce. Other people are buying these places with prejudice. My realtor would tell me he had eight properties to show me and the following morning six would be sold. There was no time to think.
I fell in love with an apartment only to find out there was an accepted offer on the place even as I stood in the living room contemplating where my furniture would go. I agonized over putting an offer on a condo with water views even though the fridge was in the dining room and the balcony tilted. I took note of simple ways to make an apartment appear 'designer' in a small two-bedroom that gave me flea bites.
Finally I stopped by an open house for a large one-bedroom in my preferred neighborhood while out for a walk one afternoon, and everything started happening very fast. It was out of my price range but the owner was desperate to sell.
My realtor went to see the place and declared it a superb value and I would never find an apartment that large, in such a fine building, in such a prestigious neighborhood ever again. He suggested a low-ball offer that would stretch my budget to near breaking and I said that could work even though I can't figure out percentages in my head and really just wanted to get off the phone so I could go for lunch.
After work I found myself at my realtor's office because I couldn't figure out how not to be there. The next thing I knew I was signing my initials here, here, here, there, up here, down there, here and now here. I had no idea how I came to be signing anything. When I was finished, my realtor said, "Congratulations, you just spent a quarter of a million dollars." Then I passed out.
The seller had until 9:00 that night to accept my offer of 17,000k below the asking price. I arrived home at 6:00, sat down on the edge of my couch and rocked myself back and forth until 9:30 when the phone rang.
Words can not describe my terror. Strangely, I was so much more afraid my offer would be accepted. When my realtor said the price had been rejected I just about fell to my knees. I could buy chocolate bars again! I could afford deodorant! I was going to live!
The seller had countered with a figure way beyond me. My agent wanted to counter with 2000k more than my original offer, despite my original offer having long ago left my comfort zone without even leaving a note. It was a good value in a great neighborhood and I could think about it overnight.
There was no more thinking for me. The next day I refused to counter and I refused to stand firm on my initial offer. My real estate agent sounded incredulous that I would back away and has not spoken to me since.
My real estate agent can just kiss the ass I spent an evening clenching in terror. I've had guys I'm much more attached to never call me again after considerably more pleasurable experiences than being shown around a few condos so if he thinks I'm going to feel badly...he obviously doesn't read this blog.
