It may well be the apogee of my entire life to spend the next several weekends driving around with you in my car looking at homes. I cannot express the utter pleasure that I derive from listening to you complain about the “market” and greedy home sellers while driving you and your oddly docile husband to listing after listing.
These homes are, naturally, all inadequate for your purposes, but then you have set an absurdly low price limit and demand to see every hovel that pops up in your search even though you know full well that none of them will suffice. I especially treasure the quiet moments of prayer that you foist on me while I’m navigating afternoon commute traffic. Listening to you make supplication to the creator of everything for a price discount on a single family home that is in your desired area of town is nothing short of awe-inspiring.
Further, you have clearly bested those of us with lesser aspirations by your dedication to the deal. I could hardly conceal my amazement at your stories of pursuing those homes in pre-foreclosure by way of visiting the home owners in person; at their home. It takes a gutsy person to ask someone in person to take a loss on what may well be their largest investment in order to enrich your wealth position. Bravo!
Now, it has come to my attention that you require the temperature to be nothing short of inferno so I will dutifully pipe the exhaust into the cabin of my car just to meet your very reasonable expectations. This will, of course, serve a secondary purpose in suffocating me to death which would be far more preferred, than to listen to another of your stories about your middle-aged son who lives in your basement but who is just misunderstood.