Lightning strikes

The fantasy house, courtesy of Google Maps.

If only you could see inside the windows (while hoisted up on Brian's leg)...

Shortly after I posted the last blog about Jasmine's house, Brian demanded the phone in a half-sleep state...to call her...again. When he shot out of bed, I knew she must have answered. She answered! The apartment is ours! Begin mentally arranging furniture and picking out paint samples!

They had a short conversation in which Brian played the role of "Desperate Man Playing It Cool," a part that requires intricate calculations to determine the exact twinge of urgency required to persuade the other actor, "Flighty Home-Owner Who's Hiding an Important Piece of Information." At the end, she asked him to call her back at 8 p.m. that night.

Why would he have to call her back if he already had her on the phone?, you might ask. It's a great question, and one that we asked ourselves for the next 7 HOURS. However, she had told Brian that we sounded like we'd be great tenants and asked us to not give up on her, so what did we do? We continued arranging furniture in our slightly confused, arguably pathetic, entirely hopeful minds.

We ate dinner at Uncle Julio's (holler Texas!) and hoped that it would turn into a celebratory fiesta when 8 o'clock rolled around. Brian went outside to call her, and once he was gone for more than 35 seconds (the measured amount of time to reach Jasmine's voicemail), I was certain that they were negotiating rent prices and move-in dates. Another round, anyone???

Instead, during that deceptively long conversation, Jasmine was explaining how she had just rented the house to her neighbor, whose house had been struck by lightning 2 days before and now needed 6-9 months of repairs. KNIFE TO MY HEART (for me, not the neighbor).

Obviously the situation is perfect for the neighbor, who can watch the repairs unfold from down the street, but COME ON we deserved that house!!!! To make matters worse, if she had just let us see the place a week earlier when we first contacted her, then we would've had a contract signed by the time lightning struck and Neighbor That I Hate would have found a new temporary home somewhere else.

Alas, it's not meant to be. But we still:

1) Immediately went home and ate ice cream in bed, in silence.

2) Moped for 2 days like little children.

3) Called her back 3 days later and offered her $500 to not go through with the contract.

Hey, no harm in trying right??