Go Ahead, Talk to Tucker

I'm starting a new thing now. I'm selling my first house. When I moved in, the place was cute, rustic living, and in need of a little TLC. What that actually means is: small, mostly damaged, and no running water.*

*That's entirely true by the way. I lived in a tent for 40 days in 2006, then moved in to this house only to discover that my new, more luxurious environs were still lacking in plumbing. We dug up the entire yard, ran a new supply line and worked the plumbing indoors. On September 29, 2006 - my birthday! - I took my first real shower since July. It was the greatest present a guy could ask for. Anyway, here's what makes all of this so poetic: In 2006, I moved from a tent into a house. Now, I'm moving from a house back into a tent; albeit, a different tent.

I always intended to flip the thing, but the schedule for sale quickened with the discovery of my new plans. Over the past year-and-a-half, I've managed to install a working plumbing system, discover two new bedrooms and another half-a-bath (!), and make the place quite presentable. Or, presentable as it is defined by a 24-year-old life-bachelor.*

*Good grief. Go back and count the number of hyphens in that paragraph. Then deal with it.

I met with my Realtor, and we've got the property listed (quite generously) at $79,900. There's a sign in the yard and a tricky sort of locked box on the door. This means that people are, maybe right now, waltzing through my house, marveling at the archways and cozy rooms. Then they're saying things like, "What a steal!" and "I could raise a family here!" and "This guy sure owns a lot of Cubs merchandise!"

My neighbors will probably be glad to get rid of me. I'm a 20-something male, I'm quiet, I don't have too many visitors, I work strange and erratic hours, I'm often gone late at nights, and occasionally, I'm gone for days at a time. I'm certain they believe that I operate a meth lab.

But, potential home-buyers, please be aware that I do not operate a meth lab out of my house. Really, I don't. The place is adorable, roomy, quiet, and at your desire, it can be as wet as you want it to be.

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I added the "Stories Where I'm Not Wearing Pants" label because it's my house and I almost never wear pants there.