Fool Me Once….

The house thing was still out of control.

The “peace treaty” that I established with my housing team only lasted a few days before they went back to their usual hijinks and BS. And it was starting to affect everything: My job, my social life, I was still having to drop everything at any given time to put out some “fire” that the house issue was causing, and in itself, became a full time job, which wrapped up my time on The Revenant.

As for the house, the appraisal came in at less than the market value, so the bank canceled the deal on us at the 11th hour, and put it back on the market without telling us for $5,000 less than its original price. They basically have said they want to not pay what it’s actually worth, and wanted to see if they can get a higher price from someone else who isn’t aware of that previous knowledge. The loan was approved. The appraisal and inspection were done. The bank in charge just got greedy and wanted more money that it wasn’t owed. So the offer had to be resubmitted for the appraised price in hopes that someone with a brain would take the new price. We ultimately ended up declining, and demanding what money we could get back.

While all this was happening, Junie scraped her eye on a branch, and had to wear “the Cone of Shame”. It was stressful enough dealing with an injured dog, but it was even worse as I had to basically justify every expenditure I made to my mortgage guy to ensure that I was still “eligible”. And vet bills are never cheap.

Coney.

Coney.

Still, I kept busy just doing outside activities. I was in front of the computer so much faxing papers and looking up info., that I was going stir crazy at the thought of being in all day.

So I walked the dogs:

Also my cell phone wallpaper.

Also my cell phone wallpaper.

Driving back out to Beatty/Rhyolite for more photo ops:

It gets hot during the Summer.

It gets hot during the Summer.

Ha!  This place was hiding behind the gas station at the mid point between Vegas and Beatty.

Ha! This place was hiding behind the gas station at the mid point between Vegas and Beatty.

As for new house searches, you just learn how weird so many homes are out here. One home had a chicken coop in the backyard that the neighborhood homeless had taken over. Another looked like it was designed by Salvador Dali, with a bathroom so small, that even I had trouble squeezing into due to the doorway being so close to the sink. Another one looked like a barbeque restaurant with swinging saloon doors and stained glass windows. I kind of liked that one.

And then there was the one that was apparently cobbled together out of seven mobile homes that merged to make one monstrosity of a house.

It was near an alley where more homeless live, as evidenced by the clothing and debris on the other side of the house wall that they could jump over and enter the yard. The house is situated right next to a major highway, so for the lovely backyard view, you’d get hobos living under an overpass accentuated by the honey dulcet tones of speeding cars.

But wait! There’s more!

In the middle of the yard is this huge metal tube with steps. Curiosity compelled, so I climbed to the top and looked inside. Inside is a pit that has zero practical use for anything. The real winner is this concrete slab next to it. “What the Hell is this? A pool?”, I wondered aloud, as I stood on top of it. There was a huge metal door on top, which after a bit of effort, I pulled open.

A moment of silence passed, and then: “I… I think it’s a bomb shelter.”

And it was. It really, actually was. I’ve never seen a bomb shelter outside of a museum or on TV. It looked like the shelters from a Twilight Zone episode or Fallout 3, complete with shelves filled with cans, metal lined walls, and the metal cylinders next to it were for ventilation.

I knew Vegas was all about the atomic bomb in the 1950′s, but why in God’s name would someone keep a functional bomb shelter in the middle of their lawn? You couldn’t cover it up, you couldn’t really get rid of it, it was just a permanent fixture of the backyard, next to the overpass and the hobo sanctuary.

And Steve and Kelly came back into town. We went to at the Venetian.

Steve loves baseball.

Steve loves baseball.

Stevie Wonder.

Stevie Wonder.

Full of local celebrities like Mayor Goodman and other music/film stars like Patrick Stewart, Michael Jackson, and Arnold Schwarzenegger, the place is full of wax sculptures that are all ready for photo ops. They even have a horror walk room, like those fun houses you experience around Halloween, or when you were a kid. Why, oh why did my friends declare me “group leader”? It’s not that I was so much scared, but you’re always the first one to get a paid ghoul right in your face, or the one who gets grabbed in fear. Thanks, guys. No really.

For me, the biggest highlight came from the gift shop, as I knocked over a tub of high bounce balls, which flew all over the store. I tried to make light of it as I scooped up a dozen high-flying, glitter filled spheres, telling the sales lady that I just wanted to make her day more exciting. She looked at me as if I were dead to her.

I apparently bring the sparkles and the shame.