I listen to Dave Ramsey from time to time for financial advice. One of the things he always says is that when you buy a house (especially on a slim budget), you better be prepared for Murphy to move into your spare bedroom.
Well, what I didn’t know was that Murphy would be a hobo who busted through the garage of our new home, took a fire extinguisher and punched a door-sized hole through the drywall into the guest bedroom, and then took a shower (left his soap as evidence), stole two cheap-ass towel racks and a shower head, and finally took an evening kip on the guest bedroom carpet leaving behind two crinkled snickers wrappers and an empty pack of cigarettes behind.
To be completely gender neutral, Murphy may very well have been Murphette. We’ll never know for sure. But, what I can tell you is that when you take possession of a new home, the thing that just launched you from debt free into a quarter million dollars in debt (thank you California!), and someone violates the sanctity before you have even entered – it ain’t a pretty feeling!
I mean, come on, break a freaking window like a normal person. But this person literally TORE through the drywall with a fire extinguisher and wooden pole they found in the garage. That’s a violent entry. How methed up were you?
The freakishness of the timing of the accident was uncanny. It happened between the walkthrough I did at 12 PM the day before and the recording of the loan at 3:50 PM the next day. And here I was holding keys to my new nightmare. Happy motherf***ing housewarming.
My realtor informs me that in all her transactions, NOTHING like this has ever happened. She’s really sorry, but she informs me that this is a shitty situation, but the seller is not responsible even though they most likely still owned it when this occurred. We could never prove that it did not happen between 3:50 (when it recorded) and 5:30 (when I received keys). We could take them to small claims court and see what happened, but we run the risk of the judge not ruling in our favor and being out the money to take them to court. And given the interaction with the seller during our negotiations for repair credit, they just don’t seem ethical, so don’t expect anything if we ask them.
I talk to the insurance and they say absolutely do not file a claim because it will hurt us for three years, and yes it sucks, but the easiest way is to probably pay out of pocket for the damage or go after the seller’s homeowners insurance.
And here I am trying to wrap myself around the situation. My boyfriend is livid (understandably so) and he’s questioning how we can live in a place like that. My mind is running the same track, but I also know that as soon as those papers were signed, that there was no turning back for the near future. I feel slightly sick, but for the most part, I’m detached from the emotion of it and seeking a solution.
After exhausting our resources for the evening, complete with a visit from the local police for a report, we go home to sleep on it and see what the morning brings. My realtor has not had a response from the seller by the time we get up. I spend a good part of my morning finding a security system and door locks.
As I vent the story to family and co-workers I keep bring up my favorite podcast, The Moth, and how they usually end the episode with a farewell of: “I hope you have a story-worthy week.” As a writer, I should find this inspirational, but instead, I’ve always felt like it was more of a curse. Have a story-worthy week = I hope something f***ed up happens so you have a story to tell! Well, I guess this was my story-worthy week.
I continue to pound away at the situation and by now I’ve requested California law around accidents like this because it does not seem like this could be our issue. Problem is the incident is so obscure, no one really knows the answer. I’m sure it happens, but the timing of it couldn’t have been more problematic in the middle of signing and recording.
We’ve resigned ourselves to the fact that we will have to pay the repairs, and that will stretch us tight for some of the other work we have to complete for move in. We’ll figure it out, but it leaves me with a sour taste.
My realtor calls me. She says she’s talked to the seller and they have agreed to make the repairs, he’s sending someone tomorrow. A relief floods me momentarily, quickly replaced by anxiety. If they truly were unethical, would they even repair this correctly? And then another level of rationale kicks in. Why bother if you don’t plan on doing a decent job? I decide to hope for the best, they certainly can’t make it any worse.
On Saturday the seller and his contractor show up, and they couldn’t be nicer. He knows the repair would cost us so much more, but he is flipping about 15 houses currently and to send someone out to fix it for us is no skin off his back.
All-in-all they do a timely and well-done repair. We upgrade our door locks and security system accordingly and all is well in the world again. Our neighbors to both sides assure us that they have never had an issue in the years they have lived there, so our minds are put to relative ease that this incident was the result of vacancy and not location.
At the end of this craziness, I’m left with my story. So I hope you enjoyed that bit of drama! And with that, I’ll conclude this blog and wish you a story-worthy week (or maybe not)!
Engagement: What was the last “story-worthy” week you had? Did it feel like a blessing or a curse?
