Closing on the condo is going as planned - the seller and I disagree somewhat about what constitutes fixing some of the problems (for instance, when an outlet is dead, the fix is to make it live, not put a metal plate over it). But I'd asked for a seller's credit as part of my offer knowing I'd have to do some things, so it all works out. I'm ready to call it fine and just close, knowing I'll have to take care of several things myself, the Damocles Shower of Electrical Death among them.
My attorney called today to tell me that the amount I'd have to bring to the closing is....zero. And really, it doesn't get better than that.
Had the reinspect early Tuesday morning, and while we were there my downstairs neighbor stopped by to say hello (translation: see who'd be living above him). Seems like a nice guy; he's a cop, which works out well since I'm considering seeing what it would take to have a restraining order put on an ex-boyfriend who's apparently determined to harass and annoy the shit out of me rather then just leave me alone as my persistent silence has clearly indicated is my wish. I'm done with feeling stalked.
The Cop told me that the woman who used to live in my place had married the guy who used to own his.
"Well, then, it may be destiny for us!" I said.
I think the best way to describe the look on his face is "unsettled."
I promised to keep the Flamenco practice to a minimum, and crossed my fingers that he'd love to help me with my air conditioner come summer.
He lives in the garden apartment. When I mentioned this to Joe and Richard at the pet-supply store, it led to a discussion of the undeniable sex appeal of the State Trooper. Richard claims he was with one who took everything off...and then put the boots back on.
That's a big ten-four, good buddy.
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