11.21.2008

My First Mistake as a Homeowner....

I really ought to be studying for finals right now. However, I thought that I would just check my email real quick, and found it full of inquiries about this latest adventure. Well, readers, I hate to leave you hanging, so let me tell you about the hilarious escapades of M & K and their first 24 hours as homeowners.

After we pestered the closing attorney endlessly last week, he suddenly consented to coming down and doing our closing on Saturday. Hooray, we thought, but then remembered that we had agreed to be the keynote speakers at the Butler Outdoor Club annual dinner. More on that later. In any event, we were hoping that the closing would be fast and without problems, so that we could go up and present our awesome slide show. Plus, Caveman of Ohio and Flick were coming into town for the big event, so we were eager to see them.

The first problem started when we went to do the final walk through, and Could Not Get Into the house. The key just wouldn't work. We tried everything. I thought there was a disgruntled spirit, and so began addressing this spirit and trying to convince it that we were worthy of taking care of their property. Turned out, there is a tricky little latch lock that absolutely cannot be opened from the outside, so we had to get other keys from the seller, and go in the back. Luckily, that was the only hold up of the event. Signing papers took approximately 20 minutes, leaving us with a breathless did-we-really-just-do-that feeling. But off to Butler we went, had a stellar time, met up with Caveman and Flick, and then decided that we should all take our Thermarests back to the house and camp out on the floor. Matt and Sloan joined us for champagne, and we were having the best time. Before we knew it, it was 3:30 in the morning. Yikes. I woke up the next morning at just barely after 7, starving, and very excited. I am only saying this so that you will understand that my fatigue had something to do with my very dumb mistake, later in the day.

Caveman had watched some Food Network special featuring the Dor-Stop Diner, and although we are always reluctant to cross the river and go through the tunnel, we made the trek, and let me tell you, it was well worth it...their pumpkin pancakes taste like pumpkin pie.

Anyway, despite some rather nasty hail-sleet-snow combination of precipitation, we decided to move our furniture. Back and forth, back and forth, all day long. We stopped to watch the Steelers game, with the intention of going back to our apartment later in the evening to take showers, get Rosie the Cat, and pick up our work clothes.

So then comes the end of the game, which was very exciting down to the last second, and M says to me, "K, where's the garage door opener?"

"Why, M," I say, "it's in the car!"

Flashback to earlier in the afternoon. I went out for cleaning supplies, then drove back home and parked in the garage, leaving the opener on the visor, taking all of my shopping bags out, and hitting the button on the inside of the door on the way out.

"How much better this is than parking on the street," I thought to myself. And went inside, where I did a very bad job of cleaning the bathroom, partly because the drains were all backing up, and partly because I was really, freakin' tired.

But we have only one garage door opener.

There is no regular door into the garage.

I had effectively trapped the car inside the garage.

We could not take showers at our new house, because the drains needed to be snaked.

M took this news very calmly, considering that he had to get up very early the next morning and go to work, and had not had a shower or changed his clothes in two days.

Then I realized that I had removed Rosie's food and water dish from the apartment, so we really couldn't leave her there for another night.

After attempting to disengage the automatic garage door by turning off the breaker (which obviously didn't work), I called Sloan, who came to the rescue, driving us back to the apartment so we could pick up Rosie the Cat and get our clothes.

But then, the problem remained...although we don't use our car most days, eventually, we were probably going to want it again, if for nothing else to move the rest of our crap out of the apartment. So how does one free their car from inside a locked garage?

Enter, the Garage Door Doctor. I was skeptical of his service when I talked to him on the phone. I was expecting him to have some sort of electronic radio devise that would open the door, which he did not. But he assured me that he "always gets in", so I told him to come over. This guy is essentially a burglar. I will not post how he got into the garage, because it was ingeniously easy, and I don't want any would-be robbers to read it. But if you come and visit us in our new house, I will show you!

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Congratulations on acquiring your first new home -- maybe the only one you'll ever need! I hope you have many, many happy hours, days, years in it. Lots of love,

Aunt Mary

Leah said...

That's fantastic :). Who needs the car anyway...