Part Four

 

There are some TNR cats that Kevin decided he can’t bring. It seems like everyone in the complex feeds them, and they’re fine. They don’t want to be trapped, and Kevin is going to miss them, so he might go back to check on them. 

As for what the investors are doing with the place, I’m not sure. In the row of five townhouses that it was in, two were vacant and two were being rented by young families with small kids. Kevin was baffled how you could rent a place out that had bad foundation problems and pipes. I said they probably just gave it all a temporary fix. Kevin didn’t think they could do that. Then a couple days before closing, the investor said he was sending “his building people” to check the place out.  Kevin said they mentioned just slapping plywood up there on the ceiling and painting over it. I said yup, that’s probably what they’ll do. The doors that are off the hinges will just be temporarily fixed, and probably the pipes will be the biggest issue for them. I could be wrong. I think they’ll just paint over everything and rent it out for about $1500 a month. The foundation in a shared wall unit cannot really be fixed without messing up your neighbors’ foundation even more. All five owners have to be on board with fixing the whole building. On top of that, the HOA will give them hell, but the investors have a legal department that seems to know how to handle HOA’s. Maybe the investors want to eventually buy all four other units?  In my real estate class, I know there are strict laws about approaching someone to ask if you can buy their house. I don’t remember the details- I’d have to look it over to be sure. 

In the end, I don’t know what their plans with the place are. I’m glad Kevin got out of it. Not going to lie, I also like him treating me like a queen because I connected him with these people. And yes, I know that unlikely to last “forever”. 

Everything is moved into the guest house now, and as we “put stuff up”, I’m starting to realize how much of a difficulty I’m finding it to live with a man again. Evita’s father was the only partner I ever lived with. We got married in 2004 and divorced in 2010. Of course my last relationship was long distance. I stayed with him while I was there, but of course we never lived together. 

I’m finding myself extremely nervous about every little thing. I keep asking Kevin, can I put scotch tape with the bag clips, can I put my fridge magnets on the front of the fridge, can I put all our extra sundries in a plastic drawer unit because that’s what I always do, and so many other little bitty things. I kind of broke down when it was time for dinner and I heated up some vegetable croquets. I put them on a paper towel in the microwave and literally asked him if that was ok. I wondered, he might be “anti paper towel in the microwave” for God knows, whatever reason. Who knows. He seemed bewildered. “Yeah that’s fine”. He said. I asked if he wanted me to put it on a plate, but deep down I didn’t want to dirty a plate when we were so busy. He was like, either way is fine. He honestly didn’t care. 

It’s because Evita’s father was so extremely nitpicky about every little thing. I seemed to have forgotten how I would do one little minor thing a certain way, and he’d correct me in a pissed off manner. It’s been 14 years, so I just didn’t remember- until I started assuming Kevin was the same way. Kevin is not. I just have to tell myself, they’re different people. Kevin isn’t anal. Now that my daughter is almost 17, I wonder if she goes through the same crap with her dad’s nitpickiness as I did when I was married to him. I thought to myself, when she moves out and gets her own place, she’ll probably be amazed at all the things she’s able to do without her dad there. I felt like that in 2010. 

After the croquets in the microwave, I had to take a break. I went to Walmart and got a few things that we needed and just browsed the Easter stuff for a while to decompress. Off topic, but Walmart has cute clothes right now too.  

Guest House 🏡

Above is a picture of the guest house on Kevin’s parents’ property that we will be living in “temporarily.” Today was closing day for him. I couldn’t be there, but he did call when it was all said and done to tell me everything went fine. When he called, he was taking his cat Mitchell to the vet to have a flea bath before dropping him off here in Waller at the guest house. When I talked to him, Mitchell was in the background very upset. I guess he hasn’t been in a car in years. 

Now I’m here, in the guest house by myself. Kevin will be home in a couple hours. He’s getting more things from the old place, and movers are going tomorrow. I’m a little beside myself, but in a good way. 

I guess I should mention that I understand the controversy surrounding home investors.  A lot of people will say they lowball you, but to that I say, of course they do. They not only bought this house “as-is”, but they got Kevin out of an extremely horrible situation. I didn’t know how much it was eating at him until we started getting serious about each other. It was really destroying him- and I know what it’s like for something to really destroy you. 

One article I found online featured a man who claimed that the home investors took advantage of his mom with dementia and gave her $25K less than the house was worth. If that’s the case, then all he has to do is show any medical records that she has dementia, and the contracts will be void. You have to be of sound mind to sell a house. Something tells me, though, that if I told this guy that to his face directly he’d probably say something like, “My mother doesn’t have an official diagnosis of dementia because she’s able to fake being normal in front of all the medical professionals that we put her in front of.”  My old boyfriend (Arizona guy) used to say stuff like this about his dad all the time. I couldn’t convince him that a person who truly has dementia wouldn’t be able to pull that off. I used to tell him, “Your dad isn’t faking being normal in front of the medical professionals.  He’s faking the dementia in front of you.”  His parents were very manipulative, and a lot of people are- so I wouldn’t be surprised if this guy in the article just assumed his mom had dementia and she didn’t. 

More arguments against this is that they take advantage of people in tough situations, and that they take advantage of people’s ignorance. This is likely true in a lot of situations. But why are people ignorant?  And if someone is in an awful position, they are grateful that there are people to get them out of it plus put money in their pocket. Not everyone knows what to do with a problematic house, and real estate is often an elusive thing to educate yourself about. I was never taught anything about it. I was just yelled at that I’d never be able to do it. 

Also, if enough people find themselves in situations where a home investor is their only way out, then soon this whole country is going to be owned by corporations and no one is going to have their own land. This is a problem that started with the fact that millennials largely can’t afford to buy homes. It can’t be nipped in the bud until the issues that created that situation are addressed. The days where you could just save for a house with one paycheck are gone. 

So basically, I understand all the criticism, I just think that in this situation what he did was best. 

I see such a change in Kevin. He used to be high strung, now he’s chill. I think this is all I have for now, more later. 

Part two

 This post is part two of my boyfriend selling his townhouse to investors. 

His mom and stepfather, who are in their 80’s, have a large piece of land in Waller, Tx which is about 60 miles northeast of Houston. Kevin is able to move into the guest house until he’s able to find a place more in town. He still works for the inventory company, so he has to go everywhere for his job. Still, Waller is a bit out of the way.  But it’s nice for now. The guest house is extremely nice and cute. But more on that later. 

When he called his mom to tell her he sold it, he had her on speakerphone. Her reaction sort of shook me. She said, “You sold the townhouse?  I didn’t know it was on the market.”  (It wasn’t “on the market” as in, the MLS.). As Kevin told her more. She continued to ask questions like, “Did you hire a realtor?  Did you do the showings?  Did you have open house?”  When I heard her asking these questions, I started cringing. She…. Must not have any clue what condition the place was in. 

Kevin confirmed that his stepfather knew about the foundation issue, but maybe his mom just didn’t care enough to retain the information. I have sort of noticed that she’s one of those people that will just hear what they want to hear, even if you are firm with the exact opposite information.  So she was completely out of touch with what condition the town was in- but the upside to that is that she’s actually so out of touch that she thinks $50K is full price. When we showed her the pictures of the ceiling, she said, “Is that the garage?”  Kevin had to explain no, that’s the master bedroom. That was her mom’s old bedroom. She replied, “So it’s the garage?” 

I started having a memory of one of my cousins. My cousin Sam passed away two years ago at the age of 70 from brain cancer. His mom and my mom were sisters. My grandparents had 7 daughters and no surviving sons- and Sam was the first grandchild who was a boy. So of course, he was spoiled and no one he married would have been liked no matter who she was. He married his wife in 1981. I was only 3, so I don’t recall this, but at the time Sam had this fancy expensive car. Fancy for 1981. He sold it when he met his wife, and the narrative in my family was that “she made him sell it.”  Why?  Because she’s such an evil witch of course. 

With Kevin’s mom being a little clueless about the state of his home, I began getting scared that they’d see me that way. That I “made him” sell his house, when that’s not what I did at all. I simply called the ugly house people, asked all the questions, didn’t give them Kevin’s personal information, because I was curious. Kevin shared with me that the townhouse was his “prison.”  When I worked with him at the inventory service, the company often paid the employees to go out of town. Kevin always refused to go out of town, simply stating, “I don’t go out of town.”  The excuse he gave was his cats.  I remember asking him, “Why don’t you just have your parents come over and feed the cats?”  And that was the only time I ever saw him get pissed off. He said, “They can’t!” In a snappy tone. I wasn’t sure why, as they both still drive and are both in very good health. But he told me the other day that the reason he quit traveling was because he was afraid he’d come home to a catastrophic event at the house. Either it would be fallen down “and they would blame him” or the pipes would break and “they would blame him” for flooding. So when he called the owner of the company to tell her he sold the townhouse he also told her that he was able to travel again. I’m sure she wondered what it had to do with it, but that’s ok. 

I love seeing Kevin so relieved. I can’t imagine being in such fear all the time. 

So I in no way “made him” sell it. I simply did the leg work that he was mentally unable to do because of the mental health issues this place caused him. And then called him and informed him that he could. He was so convinced that “no one would buy it.”  He was only thinking of it in the sense of selling it for full price to an actual family. He chose to sell it. He never knew there were so many investors out there willing to buy anything. And now I’m aware of how many of them there are too- because my own social media and Google ads are inundated with them. 

The “no one will” thing is something I’ve struggled with a lot myself. I grew up with a lot of harshness around all the things that “no one would ever” do with/for me. In my younger years, there was a lot of yelling that no one would ever hire me, no one would ever date me, no one would ever marry me, if I had a product to sell, no one would ever buy it, if I had a business to start no one would ever be a client, no one would rent to me, no one would sell to me, and the list goes on and on. My life would be this huge impossibility of never being able to do anything. As the years have gone on, I have realized more and more how untrue that all is. It’s to the point where it’s even causing me a mid life crisis, and I wonder how wealthy I would be now if I never believed all of that. 

I wonder how many people out there are struggling with something because they assume “no one would”. When the person who would is just down the street or a phone call away. 

A Man With Dreams Needs a Woman With Vision

I saw this meme and sent it to my boyfriend Kevin a while back. He adores it and keeps sending it to me to reiterate how much it reminds him of us. He loves it so much that he’s going to frame it. I love it too. I used to know Kevin as a supervisor and a friendly man who was easy to talk to, calming to be around, and cute. After I started dating him, I found out he had some demons.  As we fell in love and became a couple, we invited each other “in” so to speak, and shared our demons. 

Kevin’s last romantic relationship ended in 1996. He’s about to turn 58, so he was 30 in 1996. When that relationship ended, he moved into this townhouse with his grandmother. He lived there with his grandmother for the next five years, and when she passed away in 2001, he inherited it. It’s completely paid off, and I’m not sure when it was paid off. I don’t know if his grandmother paid it off or he did. I never asked. But Kevin wouldn’t let me into his home for the longest time. Finally he said he was “cleaning up” so that I could come in and spend the night or maybe the weekend there. Then, he allowed me only into the living room. When I was allowed into the master bedroom, he told me about the thing that was slowly eating at him and destroying him. 

The townhouse has a very bad foundation. It’s so bad that the ceiling is coming down. This is actually a picture of the master bedroom. In the vanity area leading to the bathroom, he concocted that structure to prevent the ceiling from falling further. 
 

I had never seen anything like this. Kevin told me that he attempted to have it fixed twice, with one time splitting the cost with a neighbor and the second time using a company that his own HOA recommended. But obviously, neither truly fixed it. His house is the second from the right in a row of five shared wall townhomes. There is a HOA that rides around in golf carts doing I’m not sure what. He explained that the foundation issue also causes problems with the pipes in his unit. He goes outside to turn his own water on when he wants to use it and then goes outside to shut it off when not in use. Kevin explained to me that he has lived in massive fear over whatever liability issues he may have with his neighbors and with the HOA. I suggested selling it to an investor. He said “no one” would ever buy it. 

But with me taking real estate class, I wanted more information. One morning, I picked up the phone and called the manager of the Houston office of we buy ugly houses dot com. We have all seen their ads. It says “we buy ugly houses” and has a little character that looks like Oscar the grouch. I told this guy everything that I knew. I asked him if it was possible for Kevin to sell it to an investor with the problems that come with liability from the neighbors and the HOA. This guy assured me that “these situations”were what they specialize in. I didn’t give him Kevin’s address, as Kevin didn’t even know I was calling yet. But I did tell him the name of the complex and the intersection. I asked the ugly house man, “Are you familiar with them?”  He just said “yes.”  I asked further, “Are they difficult to deal with?”  He simply responded “Yes.”  I then asked “Well with them and how difficult they are, would you still buy it?”  He said that this is his company’s speciality. So with all those answers, I went to Kevin fully aware that he might be upset at me for calling without his knowledge. 

But he wasn’t. He was actually shocked. He told me, “If he can take on all the liability, then I would give him this place for free.”  I said, “OK but don’t tell him that.  Let him offer you something.”  

I sat with Kevin while we spoke with ugly house man on speakerphone. Kevin was so nervous he was shaking. At one point in the conversation, I started massaging the back of his neck for comfort. At the same time, ugly house man said something and Kevin responded, “Yeah I know babe.”  We both then burst out laughing trying to conceal the laughter. With his nerves, and my neck massage, he had accidentally called ugly house man “babe.”  

Anyway, ugly house man went to Kevin’s place the next day at noon, but I couldn’t be there because I was working. When I got off at 2:00, I saw a text from Kevin saying that ugly house man offered him $50K for the townhouse. He’s buying it as is, and Kevin never has to worry about these “liability issues” ever again, whether they are real or imagined. 

Closing day is on February 26th, the day after his birthday. There are a couple options, but whatever he chooses, I’m going with him. 

I’m going to do a part two of this post when I feel like it. Kevin is now treating me like a queen and humming wedding songs under his breath. He also said I deserve a diamond ring.  I said it doesn’t have to be a diamond. So I think it’s safe to say that whenever he gets settled, I may be getting engaged. And that’s crazy to me. My old boyfriend was totally against marriage and I have a lot of ppl on my life who also are. 

I know that places like we buy ugly houses dot com are controversial- I agree with the controversy, and will touch on that in part two. But for right now, for Kevin personally, all things considered, it’s the best option for him. This is a person I have fallen in love with, who has been riddled with demons over this situation. His mental health took a nosedive over it. Now, “because of me” he claims, because he would have never called ugly hoise ppl, he’s not only free of all his worries but being free of all his worries also comes with fifty thousand dollars. 

Hilarious Movie

 My 91 year old client wanted to rent a movie called “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” the other night. I was not expecting to enjoy it as much as I did. I googled the movie during the movie (my ex husband used to hate me for doing that) and found out that it’s a true story. I remember the anchor Marvin Zindler from my early years living in Houston- while googling the movie I told my client, “omg that character is actually supposed to be a spoof on Marvin Zindler.”  She nodded and laughed. It was an absolutely hilarious movie. I was dead. My favorite part was when the sheriff went to visit the governor of Texas to try and prevent the brothel from being closed down. The governor said all kinds of things about the place, and the “Madame” who was Dolly Parton’s character- but it was all dressed up with “I don’t know her first hand of course- I just heard.” Lolol.