Kevin Brennan Writes About What It's Like
Excuse me while I howl from the bottom of my lungs.
See, we’re in the midst of selling our house, and for the past week we’ve had to vacate on a dime to accommodate potential buyers who want to come by and “have a look at it.” I’ve been exposed to more BS’ers these last few days than in my entire life until now. Apologies to any of you out there who might be “real-a-tors,” but the ones I’ve had to deal with this week will say anything to get what they want. One actually showed up with his two little bitty kids, who ran around the house fascinated by all our extremely breakable things. He said, “They’ll be fine. I’ll be with ’em the whole time.” Then he proceeded to leave the room, with me and the kidlets by ourselves. I was reminded of the scene in Raising Arizona where the kids are running wild in H.I.’s trailer and one of them scrawls “FART” on the wall.
Yesterday was an open house. People opened up our piano and played it. Someone woke up my computer. Drawers were opened, things touched, debris left on the floor, and, I’m sure, snotty things said. (I use the passive voice because these beings have no identity and are like spectres in my mind.)
Today is another open house, so we have to leave for five hours with our insane dog, Hitch. Who knows what we’ll find when we get back?
Wish us luck…