The housing market in Chicago is out of control. Either you live way far away from everything in order to get something nice, or you live close by on the cusp of the hood. So my realtor set up a series of parameters that pick a price range and location of a property. Then I get the e-mails of all the listings in that area which meet my requirements. After I go through them all, I pick which ones I want to see and she sets up the appointments.
So I scrolled through the listings and picked out 5 properties that seemed like they had potential. Let me take you through the 5 site visits and the lessons I learned.
1. The picture in the listing always lies. What appeared to be a nice two story brick townhouse in the photo turned out to be a coach house on the very back of the lot. The original house had burned down in a fire and there was still a pile of rubble near the front of the site. After entering the house we realized this wasn't really a house. It was formerly the garage that had been enclosed and turned into a big room for the washer/dryer with a small apartment on top. The only thing inside the apartment was a couple of stereos, bathroom stuff (shampoo, soap, etc..) and about 9 pairs of shoes in the closet. No bed, no TV, no books. Just music, shoes, and showering. What more does a man need.
2. When the price is too good to be true, there is a reason. So in examining this listing it proclaimed an empty lot next door would be included in the purchase price for an additional $10,000. It was near a school, and needed some TLC. So near a school means there are a lot of kids running around playing on your steps, bouncing balls off the side of your house while spitting red soda at each other. So you have sticky ass steps leading up to your house with bees flying around while ray-ray and neeshee fight over the hula hoop. Ray-ray's lightweight ass don't need to playing with a hula hoop anyway, get that brotha a plastic sword or something.
3. Speaking spanish is a plus. So we walk into this cute little house, and it had a strong chemical stench of something. I couldn't figure out what it was, then we went downstairs and the owner is telling us that when they put the tiles down in the basement, they got glue all over the place and he was using chemicals to get it off. He had some Mexican cat down there breathing all this toxic chemical aroma and I start talking to my man in Spanish. He starts telling me that with the big rain we had earlier in the day water just "gushed right in through that door!" and proceeded to explain within earshot of the owner how they installed the drain in the wrong place and whenever it rains the basement floods and I would be a fool to buy that house. Muchas gracias amigo.
4. Talk to the neighbors. So we approach the next place and we see the old man on the porch across the street laughing at us and shaking his head. We open the door and the stench was so bad we didnt' even bother going inside. As we come right back out of the entry he's laughing at us. I head over to him and this is what he said, "Those dumb ass niggas ran that motha fucka to shit! All dem dogs and shit all up in da motha fuckin house. The bitch that lived there was a real sweet woman, then she died and them dumb niggas lived there for a motha fuckin year before they finally came and kicked those dumb motha fuckas out." Thanks for the info man. See you at church.
You have to understand that my real estate agent is a real perky, happy-go-lucky white chick with real big tits that just jump out and slap you when you see her. (I wouldn't have it any other way.) I have to give her credit. We were a little lost and she was about to pull over and ask the brothas on the corner for directions. Either she is incredibly naive or a fucking trooper who doesn't give a shit. I can't tell if this is her game face or if she's really just this cool. i mean, I wouldn't even have asked these brothas for directions.
5. A house is not a home. After being frustrated with our picks so far, the last place to see was a condo that had a lot of square feet for the price. It was accessible to transportation, huge living room, jacuzzi in one of the bathrooms, washer/dryer in the unit. hot! I could even get past the fact that I had to move the brotha playing the stereo on the front step to get to the door of my unit. It's on a pretty busy street and there are 5 salon/ barber / hair braiding stores in the first floor as well as a liquor store. Now, I came to realize this is the closest liquor store to a nearby public house hi-rise, so all the drunks were outside arguing, making noise, carrying on. Then we were on our way out and they were arguing right in front of the door. For the first time, my realtor froze. I said, I'd go first and as soon as we go outside there was a crackhead touching her trying to get her belt from her. "That belt sure is nice white girl. Why don't you let me have that?"
For the first time, she felt uncomfortable, and I felt the need to apologize for my people. I know her white clients don't take her to places where crackheads are arguing!!! It sucks because I know I can damn near get a whole house near the hood with a backyard and a garage for the same amount I would spend living near the Gap / Starbucks / sushi spot in a studio. They would both be the same distance from downtown, in some cases, the hood is closer. But just because you have a house, doesn't mean it will feel like home.... not when you've got to slide your money through bulletproof glass to get a bottled water.... not when you've got crackheads that will harass your guests. Who the hell is ever going to come to your house if they're going to have to move little punks blasting E-40 sitting at the entrance to your condo?
This is my current dilemma. I've reached a crossroads and not sure which way to turn.
~C
CD of the moment: Aya - "Strange Flower"
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