Before we left Durham, the Babaloo and I had been watching Craigslist closely for something that fit our wants, needs, and budget. He had spoken on the phone with a man about a place that was available August 1st, and I'd noted a couple of leasing agencies in the area. We're in Mohave County, which is huge and real estate is affordable but not plentiful.
So, the end of our three-and-a-half day, 2300-mile trip across the country resulted in our pulling off of I-40 on August 1st at about noon and parking in front of a seedy motel so the Babaloo could try to call the man again to see if the property was still available/viewable. They agreed to meet twenty miles down the road at a gas station for which the kids and I were grateful as a bathroom break was long overdue so we could follow from a main road out to the place.
We saw it and agreed to take possession immediately. The man gave the Babaloo a set of keys and we agreed to meet back around 2pm with cash in hand for the deposit and rent. We left the truck and trailer, shuffled a few things out of the back of the car to make room for all four of us, and hightailed it back to town in search of a local bank. It's almost laughable that the purpose of a personal banker is to provide a highly customized banking experience in order to provide stellar service, but just setting up a local bank account in order to cash my own NC check was such a process. Don't get me wrong; everyone at the bank was very friendly and professional but they had their protocol to follow when all I really wanted them to do was call my credit union to verify funds, let me open an account, and cash my dang check. The rest of the services are gravy which could have been set up another day and not after three and a half days of rigorous travel.
Shortly before 3pm, we were back at the house. I used the key the man had given us and opened the front door.* The very first thing we unpacked was my printer/scanner/copier so we could make copies of our IDs for the man and the man could do the same for us because I'm not going to hand over a thousand plus bucks to a stranger and just trust that it's legit especially when he told the Babaloo he was leaving for Vegas that afternoon.
The man understood and promptly handed over his driver license for us to run a copy and smiled and took our cash, wished us luck, and left. We got busy unpacking camp chairs and moving our mattresses indoors, and then locked up the place and headed back up the road to the grocery store. Milk was only $1.89 a gallon! The fruits and veggies are really cheap and really fresh!
We got back here with a hatchback full of groceries, bone-tired, dusty from travel, and ready to just relax for a bit.
The key didn't work in the front door. Or the back door. Or the french doors. And both the Babaloo and I walked all the way around the house, hoping at least one of the windows would be open, but none were that we could see. And it was slightly cooler than a hundred degrees outside. And we had cold items roasting in the car.
The Babaloo picked up the phone and called the man, who promised to send an inlaw to let us in. Of course, at this point, all my nerves are screaming that we've been had. The inlaw showed up pretty quickly and tried all of about twenty keys on a ring and none of them worked. The Babaloo suggested that we drill out one of the locks. So the inlaw helped us heave our dining room table up and over and out of the bed of the pickup truck so we could access the toolboxes underneath. Only, the Babaloo never charges his drills and none of the outdoor sockets worked because all the switches were turned off indoors. So I dug out my chintzy Black & Decker drill and he set to work. The inlaw headed home to locate his drill. The Babaloo and I took turns drilling away at the doorknob core.
During one of his turns, I was sitting in a camp chair being thankful for shade when one of the kids (both of whom had been amazingly patient all week) walked up and asked how to remove a window screen. I followed said kid around to the back patio and popped the screen out. The kid pushed the unlocked window open and asked for a boost. Thirty seconds later, we opened the front door to find a frustrated-relieved Babaloo kneeling on metal shavings.
After having read about our first afternoon/evening in town, perhaps now you can appreciate how tranquil the view is here at night. I know I sure did that first night.
More updates later!
*This is an unintentional non-truth, but I didn't know so at the time. I put the key in the lock and the knob turned.
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