Forever In Contract

The potential future homestead. Hey, you wouldn't look good if you were left alone for two years either.
















Better days, back in '07:




For those who don't know, and at this point I have no idea who that may or may not be: I'm buying a house.
Maybe.
Probably.
Or at least trying. (and if blogging about it doesn't jinx this whole deal, I don't know what will.)

For those of you who have lived the past few years as adults, this probably doesn't seem like a big deal. People buy and sell houses every day, or so I hear. For me, this is a stunning leap into adulthood and (gasp!) permanence. Buying a house means my dreams of moving to a cabin in Montana and mailing pipe bombs all day will have to wait until retirement. It means I'm staying in Columbus, at least for the forseeable future.

People ask me where the house is and I respond "Westgate." They then stare at me. I then say "It's in Hilltop." Their faces cringe. "Hilltop? THE Hilltop?" I can't blame them. I've made the same face.

It seems my biggest decision upon moving into Hilltop will be whether to be a Blood or a Crip. I'm still not sure which I'll choose, but it's probably a good thing I traded in my red VW a couple months ago. It seems ever since I made the offer the local news has led every broadcast with the statement "Another shooting in Hilltop..."

EMERGENCY UPDATE: CASINO, BITCHES...

Thanks to the imaginary outrage drummed up by the Dispatch and a fabricated controversy encouraged by the city, Penn National Gaming has decided to build its constitutionally-mandated casino about a mile from the house I am attempting to buy. (Of course depending on the rest of Ohio going along with this mess during a May statewide referendum. And I think it's great that Jerry Jackoff in Meigs County gets a voice in where Columbus puts its sin parlor.)

But returning to the point - that's right, suckers! CASINO. ONE MILE FROM MY FRONT DOOR. Have you ever wanted to spend hours on end next to elderly ladies who can simultaneously suck an oxygen mask and a Basic Light while repeatedly pushing buttons that flash and make lots of noise? I will have that option EVERY NIGHT FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. Jealous? Oh, I know it.

But more importantly, an enormous casino, sports bar, hotel, monkey racing track, $4.95 surf and turf buffet can only do wonders for my new home neighborhood - the West Side. And one new addition - a 24-hour liquor license. Sweet. Can't wait to try and get out of that parking lot alive at 4 a.m.

Sure, other neighborhoods were worried about "hookers" and "crack" and "gambling addiction."
Well shit, brother, we already got that! Now it's just endorsed by the state of Ohio.

Top 5 Casino names:
1. "Hollywood on the Hilltop"
2. "Wolfe's Folly"
3. "Jim Treseel Hard Rock Cafe"
4. "Westland Mall Memorial Casino and Blackjack Parlor"
5. "The Golden Cougar"


BACK TO YOUR PREVIOUSLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING

So, about the house. It was a foreclosure so I'm thriftily and cold-heartedly taking advantage of someone else's problems. Hooray for me and the shitty economy. Oh, and the government's giving me a bunch of money. Like a million dollars or something.

But there are issues with purchasing a foreclosed house:
A) It's been empty for two years so everything leaks, is broken and has mold on it. But those are things I can probably fix or hire someone else to fix while I go play blackjack.
B) The deed isn't recorded. This is a slightly bigger problem as I can't move in until somebody in the sheriff's office records the deed. Unfortunately, since the economy tanked and every other house in the world went into foreclosure, that leaves a big stack of deeds at the sheriff's office. So, the closing date is set for Feb., but it's more likely I won't be able to move in until March. That feels just north of forever at this point.

Regardless - home ownership here I come!

Probably.