So, as you know, my house is For Sale By Owner. Which means I have to sell it myself. Which? Sucks. And involves hosting Open House events just about every other weekend.The process of hosting an Open House for us* is a multi-layered multi-step process. We preset the dates and have them auto posting online. Which means we don't have to think about the fact that we're having an Open House this weekend. So generally the Open House day begins with waking up in a panic and screaming OH MY GOD WE HAVE TO CLEAN THE HOUSE! NOW! About half an hour before the advertised start time.
Step 2, after getting out of the bed, scaring the children into action, starting coffee and beginning the process of kicking laundry under the beds, it's time to put the sign out. The sign? Weighs about 60 pounds. I'm not exaggerating. If I were exaggerating, I'd say 400 pounds. But it seriously weighs more than 50. And needs to go two blocks down to the corner. It's an ordeal.
Once the sign is up, the dirty dishes are stowed in the dishwasher and the laundry has been kicked under the beds, the rest of the day is pretty much spent sitting around waiting for people to come over and look at the house, and hopefully buy it. Some days, it's busy with lots of traffic coming through. Some days no one comes and... OH MY GOD WHAT A WASTE OF TIME WE'RE NEVER MOVING.
This Sunday Tim put the sign out and then took the girls to a University of Portland soccer game. So I was home alone for the Open House. Which kind of creeps me out a little bit, but honestly the idea of staving off an open house serial killer is more appealing than hosting an open house with kids at home. The girls? Are that obnoxious. But that's another story.
This Sunday, the Open House started out with a bang. Wherein "bang" = AHOY MATEYS. Because? PIRATES CAME TO LOOK AT MY HOUSE. Pirates. People wearing pirate clothes.
They offered no explanation and I didn't want to be, like, DUDE, WHY THE HELL ARE YOU DRESSED LIKE A PIRATE. Because? Sabers and planks and such. I did casually slip into the conversation, "So are you guys just out for a walk today?" Because they walked up, had no car. And the husband responded "Yep, just out for a walk and saw the sign, thought we'd take a look." He said nothing about the fact he was DRESSED AS A FRIGGIN' PIRATE!
Of course as soon as they left I did what anyone would do and immediate posted to Facebook that PIRATES were looking at my house. And I got a ton of responses from people who already knew that there's a clan (coven? enclave?) of pirates living somewhere in Portland, Oregon. WHO KNEW? Not me, but apparently they were on Wife Swap or something a while back.
When Tim got home, I am, all, HOLY SHIT! PIRATES! And he said, "Oh yeah, we saw them walking around earlier." YOU SAW PIRATES OUT WALKING AROUND IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD AND DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING? What is wrong with this man?
OH MY GOD, DUDE, PIRATES!
Anyway, the pirates did not put in an offer on the house, which is probably for the best since I have no idea what the current market conversion rate is for booty and doubloons.
*This may not be the same process used by others when hosting an Open House. I'm pretty sure it's unique to us.
Photo from Google Images. These are not the actual pirates who came to my house, but you get the drift.
4 comments:
I wish you had been able to secretly photograph the pirate family. Did they speak pirate-speak?
Weird. Yeah, I wish you could've gotten a pic. Now I'm going to google Pirates in Portland.
Strange, very strange. I can barely handle the Renaissance Fair (e?), so the Pirates would have thrown me for a loop.
So, what do these people do for a living? I mean, you can't really go work a 9-5 corporate job in a pirate outfit. Nor will Albertsons really want you bagging customers groceries with a saber.
Maybe they pretend casual clothing is a "costume" for work?
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