Foxy Wine Pocket

Me, uncensored.

Before You Buy This House, You Should Know I May Have Defiled It

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This is what happens when you leave me alone at an open house. @foxywinepocket | humor | real estate

I LOVE snooping through touring open houses when they go on the real estate market. My freighbors (neighbors who are also friends) and I keep track of the local open houses so we can explore them, critique them, and fantasize about living in them.

As luck would have it, last weekend a large, 1.5 million dollar house went on the market down the street from us. (Some of you might think that sounds like a luxurious mansion on a multi-acre estate, but here in the Bay Area of California, it doesn’t actually buy you all that much.) Still, we had to see it.

So I grabbed some supplies, and my freighbors and I set out to check out the house and give it a test ride. After all, whoever buys this house will be invited to our block parties and our New Year’s Eve parties, so we had to make sure we knew the layout of the house in order to stumble in to use the bathroom or put a passed-out neighbor to bed or anything like that.

When we got there, we had to remove our shoes, and I was pretty pissed about that. I was wearing awesome boots and not awesome socks. (Believe me, I have some really awesome socks, and I would have planned better for the pictures.) Also, the boots really made my outfit. So you’re just going to have to put aside my non-bootness for rest of this article. (I think I was talking to myself there.)

First thing I noticed in the entry way was this sign:

The draperies are too fabulous for you to have. So fabulous I didn't take a picture of them so you won't miss what you can't have.

The draperies are too fabulous for you to have. So fabulous I didn’t take a picture of them so you won’t miss what you can’t have.

I wasn’t even appalled by the bad capitalization and punctuation; it was the message that got to me. Apparently, if you can afford this house, you can afford your own curtains and rods—because you’re not getting these. Well, la de da.

Our neighborhood is an older one (by California standards). A lot of the homes are California Mission Style (AKA, Mission Revival Style, get your heads out of the gutter), and they’re known for their original fireplaces with images on some of the tiles. To have an original fireplace is somewhat of a badge of honor. Our own fireplace has the image of a cool ship on the tile, and we call it the “Pirate Ship ARRRRRRRR! Fireplace.” (You have to say the “ARRRRRRRR!” with it. It’s mandatory.)

This particular open house also boasted an original fireplace, but at first glance, I couldn’t quite figure out what the tile was supposed to be.

Fireplace

After studying it close-up, I decided that it’s “New World Meets Old World” with a spaceman and an Aztec dude. My freighbors and I all agreed, and we only made fun of it a little bit. Moving on…

In addition to needing to know where the bathrooms and bedrooms were for block parties, I also had to determine if this house was really worth the money. I mean, I couldn’t possibly recommend the house to anyone unless I really tried it on. Really got to know it.

So what are the main things you do in your house? Eat, bathe, use the facilities, sleep.

First thing’s first. I needed to eat. My freighbors and I went to the dining room and sat down. What? You thought I’d be trying out the kitchen? Let me just assure you now that there was plenty of room on the kitchen counters to spread out the take-out. I needed to test out the eating area.

So I sat at the dining room table to have my meal:

Nice floral arrangement. I’m guessing it doesn’t come with the house either. Cheap bastards.

Nice floral arrangement. I’m guessing it doesn’t come with the house either. Cheap bastards.

After my meal, I felt a little dirty and decided that I needed to take a bath. So I stumbled wandered upstairs to find the bathroom.

Of course, along the way to the bathroom, we had to check out all of the closets and cabinets and the smallish spaces (you know, where you can stash the bodies). I even found the perfect hide-n-seek space in one of the master bedrooms. Bet you can’t find me.

I’d totally hide from the kids in here and practice my yoga child’s pose. Or a duck-and-cover earthquake drill.

I’d totally hide from the kids in here and practice my yoga child’s pose. Or a duck-and-cover earthquake drill.

On my way to the master bathroom, I discovered that the master bedroom has a balcony overlooking the backyard and most of the neighboring backyards. I decided that if I were a guy, I would totally pee off of that balcony every morning.

Me: “If I were a guy, I would totally pee off of this balcony every morning. I would pretend that I was peeing on all of your houses. And using my light saber to destroy the zombies hunting in the neighborhood.”

Freighbor: “Wouldn’t you be worried that we’d see your junk?”

Me: “Nah, I’m a guy, remember?”

I also noticed there were some weights on that balcony. Because everyone does strength training on the balcony, right? So I decided to go a few reps. With my purse on. And my jacket.

That totally counted as my workout for the day. Along with the yoga pose.

That totally counted as my workout for the day. Along with the yoga pose.

After my meal and my workout, I really needed to bathe. I found the master bath and hopped right in.

Comfy bathtub. Roomy too. Enough space for my other half: my bottle of wine.

Comfy bathtub. Roomy too. Enough space for my other half: my bottle of wine.

Having “cleansed” myself, I realized that I needed to check out the most important part of the bathroom: the toilet. After all, you spend a lot time on the toilet, and you really need to make sure it will suit your needs.

A bath mat would ensure tile floor isn’t too hard on your knees. The tile would be nice and cool on your cheek—should you decide to rest briefly.

A bath mat would ensure tile floor isn’t too hard on your knees. The tile would be nice and cool on your cheek—should you decide to rest briefly.

(My future neighbors can thank me for such thorough testing.)

After all of that snooping and testing, I was pretty beat. But I wasn’t going to take a nap in the bedroom. Not because I cared about fouling up someone else’s bed, but because it’s California—we can sleep outside practically year-round. As I was making my way to the backyard, I discovered the entrance to the basement.

It’s the perfect place to put your wine. Or your zombies. You pick.

It’s the perfect place to put your wine. Or your zombies. You pick.

I was too tired to determine the best use for the torture chamber basement. So I stumbled across the patio and took a brief “nap” on the patio furniture.

I wonder if my drool makes this couch more valuable.

I wonder if my drool makes this couch more valuable.

Overall, I’d say this house passed my tests with flying colors. It’s big. It’s beautiful. It’s functional. The only problem is I can’t afford this house, but I’m sure someone can. I only hope that the rich new neighbors are also nice. And don’t mind my cheek-print on their bathroom floor. Or the surprise I left in their basement…


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Comments

  1. BAHAHAHA I loved this post and all of the pictures. You and I are lady brothers from another mother. Except I don’t wear fabulous lacy panties. Mine is black (which you would probably have guessed) and cotton and extremely functional.

    Are you hiding from the Nazgul in that closet?

  2. I don’t know what is crazier… You doing all that crap in their house or the fact that you were just running around doing errands with your friend and you had a flask. Also, I’m pretty sure you were totally wasted when you added your photos or they were stoned. It worked OK, I just did some yoga poses and was able to see them. I’ll send my medical bills to you by the end of the week. Lol

    • The photos were my fault. I was wasted, stoned, and doing yoga when I uploaded them for the article. Sorry about that! Send your medical bills to my bankrupcy attorney–he’ll get right on that. 😉

  4. They should use these in the open house showing. One should always know if there’s room to hide in one’s closet of how comfy it is for afternoon drinkin…er…bathing in the tub.

  5. Fucking piker.

    Next time, mainline a box of prunes and take an especially vile shit in the dishwasher.

  6. Um, was there a realtor showing the house or did you guys just break in?
    Guess what? The multi-million dollar home has my same Home Depot bathroom floor tile! It’s totally not worth $1.2 mill. That tile was like $2.99 a foot. Also, I said alien meets Aztec too!

    • This was a special open house for neighbors only. Which means that the realtor knows us nosey neighbors well enough to give us our own showing and get us out of the way before the real customers come through. And you’d be surprised what people will pay for houses around here. It’s ridiculous.

  7. So I am assuming there were three of you on this tour – one to get the realtor into a very long winded discussion while the other two toured the place?? That’s how I would do it – and I have found slate on the bathroom floor is best for lying on, really cools you down.

    • That is exactly what we did. The one at the dining room table was the hardest to get away with, but my freighbors are nothing if not determined.

  9. Lady, you know how to do an open house. The pictures were great, esp the hold-hair-back-from-vomit-stream one. I hope my resting face-first on the tiles days are over but you never know.

    • Shit. I hope my resting face-first on the tile days are over too, but I gotta help my potential new neighbors. Right?

  15. Yes, I noticed the bad capitalization in “Draperies & Rods” because I am an editor and, thus, an insufferable snob. But tell me that you didn’t, even for a second, imagine the sign was a thinly veiled reference to a swingers’ party. No? Just me? Drapery? Rods? Anyone? (PS: You are hilarious and all kinds of wrong and wear surprisingly slutty drawers.)

    • Well, I wasn’t thinking swingers’ party, but NOW I AM. I will never think about drapery and rods the same way again. Thanks to your hilarious and all-kinds-of-wrong head.

  17. Hilarious post my friend!! No wonder we get along so well; we’re both awesome, love snooping houses, and most importantly, are from the great state of CA

  19. I believe you may have added to the value of that home and if I could afford it (and would be willing to move to Cali) I would be your new neighbor. Of course, you could borrow my bathroom at anytime and I would help with your holding your hair and let you pick out the bathmat color. By the way, I really think that SOMEONE has to make up the California missionary position – work on that.
    Meagan B. recently posted…Dear Mothercluckers – An Open Letter to the ChickensMy Profile

    • I believe I added to the value of the home as well. I’ll be sure to tell the new neighbors that. And we would be FANTASTIC neighbors. But not if you made me sand or paint anything. 😉

  21. Whew! You and your freighbors are my kind of people! I would TOTALLY do that for fun! And I had a grand laugh reading the comments on here as well….I am assuming your drunk, stoned, yoga-doing, photographer is your husband??! That comment cracked me up big time.

    <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 I give it 5 hearts. For making me laugh. AND for being informative. You never know when I will be in the market for an expensive house in Cali.
    Traci recently posted…10 Things you will NEVER hear my husband say to another manMy Profile

    • It was the most fun that I’ve had on a Friday afternoon in a long time. Maybe I should get out more. 😉 And, yes, that drunk, stoned, yoga-doing photographer is my husband. Except he doesn’t really do yoga.

  22. Ok. I just can’t. Okay. Maybe I can a little. I swear to all that is holy, we are the same person. It’s like you are wearing my skin. I’m more than a little disappointed, though, that you did not do roundhouse kicks in the backyard. Further, is it me or is that backyard straight out of Party of Five?

    • I did have a little dance party in the backyard, but we didn’t have a video camera. I see a future post…

      Yes, there was a definite PoF vibe going on.

    • I would love that. There was one open house that five or six of us explored. We ended up chatting on the rooftop patio for a good hour. It was a lovely afternoon.

  27. Thank you, Ms. Fox, for the colorful commentary on my new home.

    As my new freighbor, you will be glad to know that you have my blessing to vomit in my master bath at any time you are unable to stumble the few additional doors down to your home.

    I just have a couple of corrections to make.

    First, the significance of the fireplace tile is more profound then you realized. As this tile was installed nearly 40 years prior to modern humans rocketing into space, it is conclusive proof that the Aztecs were indeed visited by aliens. So not only did the stock of the neighborhood dramatically increase simply by my family’s arrival, the home (and our street) will soon be featured on the History Channel show “Ancient Aliens.”

    Second, I do piss off the balcony on a daily basis. But that daily ritual is really just my way of giving back to the community. The proletariate obviously wants to see my junk as I piss all over them.

    And lastly, as the wait for my new shutters to be installed has now extended beyond three months, the fact that the rods and drapery were not included with the sale has indeed become a bit annoying.

    Cheers!

  28. Haha. I love that Daddy Warbucks and his beautiful bride have now read this. That was the best open house ever. Too bad you weren’t here to do the photo tour of Alex and Axel’s place when the anti-social serial killer with OCD was moving out.

    By the way. We also have the old ship on our fireplace. Perhaps we were once a seaside village and the ancient aliens arrived by boats. Or more likely the Aztecs departed and left the alien living across from you in the rock grotto. This would explain everything that is weird and magical about this block.

  29. It all makes sense, why I absolutely adore you, your scarcasim and witty sense of humor…I’m a Bay Area girl too!!! Raised in the lil town of Martinez. Ahhhh the mothball fleet, Foster freeze and the stench of Shell Refinary all means home to me 😉

  31. A good frieneibour would have held your hair back while defiling the master toilet….but they must have been laughing their asses off watching you. The panties were a great addition too. It looked authentic. Lmao

  34. What town are you in/near. I’m moving to the San Jose area soon, maybe we can be frieghbors! (Or grief hobos as autocorrect wants us to be)

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