I’ve avoided writing about finally putting down a bid on a house and ‘winning’ it simply because it feels very unreal and scary. It kinda all went down last Sunday when we saw this really nice old craftsmen in Rainier Beach. We did the typical walk through: opened up a few cupboards, checked the ceilings upstairs, walked around the yard, and peeked into the only bathroom. Then we assessed the place as we drove away with our real estate agent: “Wow, great place…yeah…four bedrooms, how cool!” Other then the Mexican music blasting from across the street, the neighborhood seemed fairly quiet and the house actually had a bit of a lot so the neighbors weren’t resting squarely on top or just next to the house. There was a little parking space in the back, tons of built in shelves, and when Josh pulled one side of the carpet up he saw hardwood floors that had been painted green (score!). The only thing that concerned us was how incredibly south the place was…sure, we knew we would have to settle between location and the size of the property, but the reality of it was sobering.
It didn’t help that a week prior I had tried to make it down to Renton on the bus and ended up at this freightingly rowdy bus stop on Henderson Ave. where gangs of kids were yelling and blowing up stuff and talking about friends ‘getting jumped.’ I ended up seeking refuge at the nearby Rite Aid where I watched a woman with track marks stagger around the school supplies aisle and angry teenage moms yelled profanities at their stroller riding toddlers. It might be a necessary side note to mention that I was the only white person around for, what felt like, miles…and that includes the people in cars driving by. This house is six blocks away; I had a hard time wrapping my mind around it.
But then, I went through this thought process: OK, when we first moved from white bread Fort Collins, we were a little overwhelmed by the diversity in our neighborhood. We hadn’t seen much in the way of low-riders or head scarves in Colorado and we certainly didn’t live in Bloods territory like we do now in our current place. I would need to confront my oddly surfacing inner-racism. I did some research and found that the overall reported crime was lower in the south end then in the east where we live now…I also found that seemingly safe north Seattle has DOUBLE the amount of crime, (blame it on Aurora). It is further to Shoreline from downtown Seattle then Renton, and the cheapest place we saw in north Seattle was a two bedroom bungalow for 325,000. We could simply get more house for our money by moving south. I decided I would need a car to make myself feel more connected with everything…it was time, and the luxury of borrowing Kris’ car would be gone. Looking at used Suburus cheered me up, and on Sunday evening we were leaning towards taking the plunge. We learned that we only had until Tuesday afternoon to make an offer…yow!
I started chickening out on Monday night: What if we actually got the place, could I really live in Rainier Beach? Would my friends visit me? Could I really walk to the sketchy Safeway that backs the Rite Aid and buy food with ease and comfort? I was exhibiting a shocking level of cowardice…I had no bravery going into it and if it wasn’t for Josh pushing forward I’m fairly certain we would be renting until our golden anniversary. After my four hour dance class/rehearsal we got in the car and did the obligatory late night drive-by at 10:30pm. Rainier was hopping, lot’s of people wandering around, packs of kids hanging out at the same bus stop, and large groups of up-to-no-good boys were parading down the sidewalk near my suspect Rite-Aid. However, when we drove past all that and rounded the corner and up our street we found it to be absolutely quiet. We sat in front of the house in our car with the windows rolled down and realized how laid back it was. No more Mexican music, no bright lights or drug deals going down. Josh reminded me that six blocks away from our current place is the sketchy AMPM where I once had a lit crack pipe handed to me at the bus stop. We also realized how quiet it was not being next to a section eight apartment complex.
Tuesday morning we had arranged for a pre-inspection just to make sure the house wasn’t going to fall into itself or was on a flood plain (something we had observed in another property). I was working so I couldn’t go…which was probably good because my pessimistic attitude would have blanketed the entire inspection. Josh called me at work several times to assure me the place had “good bones” and was even cooler then when we first visited the place on Sunday. I think I was so frazzled I actually asked him if there was the distinct possibility the house could be haunted (hey, it’s an old structure! Lot’s of time for a few ghosts to put down roots). Built in the early part of the nineteen teens, we were looking at solid if not weathered construction. The biggest diagnostic was that the house was under priced for the condition it was in. This meant we were definitely looking at a multiple offer situation.
We sat down with our agent Tuesday morning, knowing our offer had to be solid and to the selling agent by two in the afternoon. We decided to bid twenty thousand over the asking price, something that was to be expected going into this house buying business. We also wrote a letter to the sellers explaining why we dug the property–well, Josh wrote the letter and I merely signed it. Turns out the sellers live next door; they bought the house several years ago, fixed it up, and rented it out to friends. This would work to our advantage because it meant the sellers had a personal interest in who would become their future neighbors. The selling agent mentioned that the couple liked animals so Josh made sure to include Hobbes in our letter, in addition to all the future dogs we hope to own.
The entire time, we were approaching this with the lowest amount of excitement possible. Our agent gently reminded us that there were already other offers coming in, and that our offer was on the low end…we thought about extra stuff we could do to sweeten the deal if they came back to us with more requests, but we honestly had very little other then secure financing and a little earnest money. Our agent assured us that we would have a clean offer, one that was well-written, well executed; no escalator clause or tricky financing requests…she said the sellers didn’t want to sit down with agents so she was going to put together a snappy cover sheet. Josh and I kept telling ourselves, “Well, this will be a good learning experience…the most we’ll be out is $125 for the pre-inspection.” But secretly, we were wildly entertaining the idea of actually getting the place. I had decided that morning that I just needed to suck it up and be brave, that this was an emotional process and me freaking out about the neighborhood wasn’t helping. Josh wistfully mentioned how great the backyard was, how he envisioned extending the fence around the back of the property and maybe adding a deck. Despite the fantasizing, we were very strict with ourselves, even laughing about how we just had to get through the necessary first offer rejection that so many people had reported experiencing during their home buying. After all, it had only been one month of searching and maybe the thirty-fifth property we’d looked at…surely it was much too soon to actually succeed in buying something.
I went home after we signed all the paperwork and Josh drove up to Everett for his new rotation. I tried to find stuff to do but I was very aware when two o’clock rolled around and I knew the sellers were looking over our offer. I tried eating something, but my stomach was all flippy floppy. I tried calling my Mom, but she wasn’t home. I thought about calling someone else but realized there was no reason to draw any hype because we were probably not getting the place. I felt like a pregnant woman waiting until after her first trimester to announce the big news.
When I got the phone call at five o’clock that we ‘got it’, I honestly regressed into my chicken shit self. “REALLY?” I exclaimed, “No way, I really thought we didn’t have a chance…seriously? This changes everything; I have to change my attitude about everything!” Our agent told me that there had been FIVE offers and that two were ‘useless,’ and two were over our bid but poorly written, executed, and made the sellers feel ‘uncomfortable.’ We were cheered that our meager bid had been accepted based on our personal merit–and our excellent agent of course. We close the second of week in August, putting us in the house by the first of September