Update on the Housing Situation or Why I Stepped on a Nail

The real estate agent, Patty, and I went out to my father's house this past Saturday.

In preparation for our visit, I asked for the new keys along so that we could get in. My father has a set. I also had Patty let TheLoser know that we would be there Saturday evening.

The key that was supposed to get us in the front door did not work. Fortunately, I am neither stupid nor without resources. We went around to the side of the house. TheLoser only changed the locks on the front door; I am still able to get into the house through the garage.

There was a bunch a stuff piled inside the garage in front of the door leading into the garage. I pushed and shoved and got in anyway. I noticed a strip of wood on the floor, but I did not think much of it (more on this later).

There appears to have been some damage done when TheLoser moved in as there are some holes in the walls that were not there before. I asked Patty to make a note of it and have the handyman produce a separate invoice for the repairs so that we could charge TheLoser for the damage.

I pointed out the final repairs that need to be made; there are not many. Patty took back her silk plant, which TheLoser had appropriated as his own.

We then turned off the lights and exited the home via the garage. I wondered aloud why there was a strip of wood on the floor. I stepped on it by accident, and felt a nail go clean through my shoe into my foot. If you heard any screams this past Saturday, that would have been my howls of pain.

I checked my foot; it was not that bad. There was only a little blood and I just finished the antibiotics my Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor gave me so I am not too worried about infection.

We limped over to the neighbor's house. This is the minister who lives in the property behind my father (not to be mistaken with TheLoser who is also a minister), and is interested in buying the property. We told him the house was for sale.

He is a nice man, but rather chatty. He and Patty talked a bit about Jumbo Loans and Upside Down Mortgages. We were there well over an hour because the conversation totally went onto a tangent. I am glad he is interested in the house, but my foot hurt and he kept chatting away about inane matters. I kept trying to leave and he kept cutting me off when I gave my "I'm about to be outta here," speech. Finally, I escaped. Hopefully, I was not too rude in my bid for freedom.