unreal estate part 2... karma place cont'

And so the saga continues with weaves and bobs through the treacherous entanglements of human greed or incompetency... or both. With bellies full of taco pollo and sipping a shiveringly dry Riesling to cool the tepid rants of a more than noxious Verde sauce, we ventured off early with a severe "fuck it" attitude and middle fingers wagging in the air, rag top down, sun tickling our pates. Many "upons" to come so I'll list them:

Upon arrival of our newfound freedom, we decided to approach the owner of Karma Place and see how things are going.

Upon our discovery that all the unreal estate signs were still intact without "pending" or "sold" draped about them, George decided to transform herself into one Sara Abrams (living, real, or unreal I have not a clue) pretending to be a potential buyer from Seattle just passing by, inquiring to the unrealtor what the particulars of the situation were.

Upon our shock of finding out there is no pending back-up offer (ours), we decide to track down the owner.

Upon knowing she likes to roost with other doves at the courthouse, George jumps out and engages her on the street corner. Here's where the surreal and weird shit begins to unfold before my eyes. George's reaction to her saying she never got our counter offer draws the attention of police lurking all about the place. Passers by see a little irritated woman jumping up and down while talking to a taller woman who continues to wave and smile at drivers while holding her peace sign. I, on the other hand, am parked in front of a bustling courthouse with an open container, sipping said shiveringly dry Riesling while comfortably perched behind the wheel of a convertible, noticing a civil war era cannon mounted on the sidewalk pointed directly at my ever reddening nose, and wondering if this all has any meaning with regard to being awake or just dreaming.

Anyway, we have a meeting with the owners Friday morning. Sigh.