For The Birds

Five years ago when we were house hunting, we discovered a listing for a home that sparked an interest. The house was in a subdivision that was desirable to both of us and was set at an awesome price. I set up an appointment with the sellers’ agent. I gave her my work number and told her she could contact me there, which she did on one occasion. She seemed super excited about where I worked for some reason.

We met with her a few days later at the house that was for sale. The owners were home but quickly left with their two gigantic collies in tow. The house was a single level ranch with hardwood floors that needed some work. The realtor fully acknowledged this. She also told us that, while there were ducts in place for central air, a unit would need to be installed.

We toured the backyard, which had a dog pen. Since we are definitely not dog people, this was something that I found to be an unnecessary eyesore.

“They really need to find a farm out in the country. That’s where they belong,” said the agent. I nodded and smiled. I didn’t understand why having two large dogs would automatically make you country folk, but whatever.

I was about to find out what she meant. I definitely was not prepared for it.

When we went back inside to view the basement and the realtor quickly added, “This is where they keep the birds,” I figured maybe they had a pair of exotic parrots or cockatiels or something.

I was terribly wrong.

As we descended the wooden stairs, we saw two walls with easily two dozen cages filled with parakeets. Apparently, the homeowners were breeding these birds. They were squawking and carrying on in an unfinished portion of the basement. Toward the back of the basement, were two children’s bedrooms, one of which contained two large aquariums with large lizards. To this day, I can’t decide what is more horrifying – the lizards or the fact that there were two children sleeping just a few feet away from hundreds of birds.

As we were leaving, the realtor asked me a confirming question about where I work. Then she asked, “So how is Bob doing?” The only Bob I knew at my work was sales rep who had been fired months prior to that day. Apparently, she did not get the memo. I just smiled and said, “Oh, Bob is on the road so much. I rarely see him.” Then she went on and on about Bob and what a great guy he was. I could tell by her raving compliments that we were not talking about the same person.

We said our goodbyes and told her that we’d give the house some consideration. This, of course, was an empty pleasantry. I had absolutely no desire to live in a bird house. I told her that I’d tell Bob that she had asked about him as per her request. Then we turned our backs to her with smirks on our faces, hightailing it to the car.

When we got in the car and were safely out of earshot, we both let out a giggle.

“I just have one question,” I said to my husband.

“What’s with all the birds?” He asked.

“No. Who the fuck is Bob?”

I later realized that there is an abstract company with a name that is very similar to the company where I worked. Bob must have been an employee at the abstract company and she probably thought that’s where I worked.

A few days later, the realtor called me back. I told her that we had moved on with our search and that the home wasn’t the right fit for us. She then tried to entice me with a $1000 credit to have the floors redone.

Yeah, because THAT was the problem.