How we found our realtor

It all started when when the Residences at the Domain started to show the apartments around ours. For the longest time, our wing, the expensive one across from Louis Vuitton at the Domain was too costly for many Austinites. Whenever we told people how much we were paying for such a cool pad, they would tell us “You should buy a house for what you are paying in rent”. I loved telling clients and their friends that I lived above Tiffany’s, and I think they loved telling others that we did too.

I don’t know if they lowered the rents, or if the management office got mad at us, but suddenly there was a bunch more activity around our apartment. One weekend the people next to us on the right moved in, A week and a half later the people to the left, and then after that the people below us. All in all there wasn’t any peace for almost a month.

Moving into an apartment is disruptive. I don’t care how much hard work it is for you and your buddies. I care about slamming doors, and thunderous dollies, and pickup-trucks backed up to the main door to the hallway that I have to work around, and empty beer bottles left near the elevator.
I care when you bring your boom-box into a vacant apartment and you turn it up loud enough to hear it over shouting, and shuffling, and it echoes through the hallways when you prop the door open. I care when you unpack your kitchen at 11:00 at night. I care when you hang pictures, and it shakes the common wall. My peaceful home is not a sanctuary when you move in next to me.

If this had happened once, I can understand, but it continued over and over for a month. What was once a quiet high end, upscale apartment at the domain had turned into a sophomoric dorm-like experience.

Sadly, it never returned to the normal lifestyle we had had for the previous year and a half. Now I know the schedules of everybody around us thanks to the paper thin walls and floors.

I swear I can hear the guy snoring through the walls. Every morning at exactly 6:07 his wife gets up and showers. How do I know it’s her? Because she puts her work heels on at 6:52, and clip-clops across the hardwood floor, and down the cement corridors.

But by far the worst was 3 weeks ago when a musician moved in downstairs. Everybody in Austin belongs to a band, but this guy was dedicated. He practiced all the time. You know that scene from Jurassic Park, the one when they are on the island and the water glass begins to show ripples in the scene right before the Tyrannosaurus Rex makes his first appearance? Yep, that’s what my glass looks like on my coffee table when he decides to practice. Which is from 10:30 in the morning until around 4:30 in the afternoon. Every fucking day. The muddled bass, muted guitar, and whump, whump, whump of his amp permeate the modern, peaceful, tranquil apartment we used to love so very much.
Strangely enough he is actually quite good, and if you get a chance you should see him live. But through the filter of honey colored bamboo floors, its crap.

Two weeks ago sunday, Jenn and I had enough. We had to get out!

We had an idea about where we wanted to live, and thought it would be a good idea to just get out and look to see what was out there. We drove south down Mopac, which is also called Loop 1, and isn’t a loop, it’s a straight north, south road to the west side of Austin, and began to drive around. There were several houses that looked interesting to us. I would pull over, and Jenn would jump out and grab a flyer from off the For Sale sign.

Since I’ve never bought a house before, and I don’t know how the process worked, I simply called the number of the realtor on the sign in front of the house, and asked if we could arrange for a showing. I was literally laughed at by the first Realtor. Here in Texas it’s illegal to be the agent who represents both the seller and the buyer. Since The agent was already in bed with the seller, they really couldn’t help me. And apparently I was very stupid for not knowing this. Needless to say, we didn’t hire that realtor, and we didn’t even look for any more houses in that area.

Who needs a realtor I decided. Using the power of the internet, I began to search for houses in our price range in other zip codes that we liked. I found two in this new area that looked intriguing, so we headed out again. After driving around the neighborhood, we grabbed the flyers from each, and headed home. Immediately I called the two offices.

Office #2 said they would have somebody get back to me – Sure I thought.

House number 3 was a great little 3 bedroom 2 bath on a super quite street. This house on Fireoak Lane seemed perfect. We grabbed the flyer, and when we got home called the realtor. A very nice receptionist answered and told us that the first realtor was unavailable, and to wait while she got someone who could help us. That’s when we first met Carra.

The next 5 days were a whirlwind. She met us at the Fireoak house, and took us around, asking tons of questions, listening, and charming us with her smooth Southern accent and perfect Texas hair. We were driven around and shown neighborhoods, and houses. She gave us maps of areas for us to drive around in and see what we liked. We talked about Travel, and home ownership, and that it was possible to do both. She recommended a mortgage agent who made the process of getting financing seamless and easy. It was a dream.

Exactly seven days after we first began our search, we put a bid in on a 4-bedroom 2-bath house with 18 foot vaulted ceilings, on the 2nd quietest street in Austin. Yep, the entire process of finding a house, getting approved for a mortgage, and bargaining the contract with the seller took one week. March 13 we close, and I can’t wait to get out.