Last night I met a young woman who works in finance-pronounced FI-nance by her and her company-economist sister.

“fi-NANCE says my MBA husband. “Stay strong!” They both advised me on my Southern pronunciation.

Yes! I shall, y’all!

Where was I?

Oh! Yes. Real estate. It’s bananas in Houston. The lady I met had just moved back from Charlotte for her husband’s job-in FI-nance.

(Sticking out tongue) :9

She explained that finding housing was nearly impossible. Three of their generous offers were taken by others before snagging this 4th one. Not only did they need to compete with 8 other offers on this 4th house, they had to write a letter to the current owner.

A house essay?

Really?

I’m sure we did not learn to do this in any English class I ever had.

“Dear WEIRD, DEMANDING FAMILY,

We, the applicants, will keep your goose wallpaper, mauve carpeting, and burgundy accent wall in tippy top shape!

You can rest assured that the blue tub and popcorn ceilings will remain lovingly intact.

Also, we will babysit your dogs at anytime, day or night since they have lovingly left sturdy momentos on the sponge-faux-textured “Italian” wall. It’s fitting that Italian greyhounds should do that.

Simply adorable. We are just over the moon.

Sincerely,
Young couple from Charlotte tired of cheap, over chilled red wine and ‘wings night’ at the Homewood Suites. ”

I’m glad we bought our downtown condo when it was distressed and in the midst of a lawsuit in 2013.

If I had to write a house essay, I’m pretty sure pink felt tip pens, white lies, e.e. Cummings, and Scooby Doo would be involved…

Fluffy
Mauve. Grey. Hounds
Leave
Me
Quest
ioning
ever
Y
thing