Dorie Morgan’s Rising Up

Adventures in First Time Home Buying: Who the hell is Pete?

August 25, 2008

Posted in: home life

Please refer to Friday’s post of a brief recap of the house settlement.

As we finished settlement on Friday, everyone started to get up from the table when I cried out “what about keys!” Keys. You know, that crazy new invention that no one remembers exists yet. And everyone looks startled. What about keys?

So the seller looks confused and says she doesn’t have keys. And the seller’s sister says that she has keys, but those keys are in her other purse. And their agent says that he still hasn’t collected all of the keys.

But then the agent says, you can use the lock box on the front door! The lock box has keys! But we’ll have to leave the keys in the lock box for Monday morning so we can get our U&O inspection. Perfect.

My husband and I then go about our day. I hit up Sam’s Club for supplies. We go to the mall to get lunch. We call my parents and make arrangements to meet at the New House at 5:30 that evening. Brian and I go home and take a nap because we’re exhausted.

At five, we head over to the new place. Brian fumbles with the lock box for a minute, I pace around the front of the house, he finally gets the door open. I decide that it is extremely important for Brian to carry me over the threshold of the new house. He looks uncomfortable and then we try to work out the logistics of him carrying me. (Side Note: Brian and I are the same height and of a similar build. This quickly became a very awkward endeavor but I will be forever grateful that my head was not slammed into the doorway.)

I open all of the windows and the doors because the place smells horrible. Like stale cigarettes and junk that’s been sitting in piles. Air would be very good.

My parents come over, there’s a champagne toast and then we start to close up the house. I carefully close and lock every window. I lock the front door from the inside and I lock the deadbolt. I lock the side door. I get to the back of the house, I lock the door behind me and slam it shut. No one is going to be able to get into this house.

Including me. I’m not going to be able to get into this house. As I’ll discover 24 hours later. But for now, I am blissful and ignorant.

Saturday night, we head back to the house with a radio, lawn chairs, booze and a fan. We park out back, unload the car and go to the front. I unlock the bottom lock and then I go to unlock the deadbolt.

Nothing happens.

I try again, thinking the key is stuck. Still nothing.

I go to the side door. No dice. I move on to the back door. I can’t get in. I have owned a home (sort of) for one day and I am locked out of my house. I can’t get in. There are five different locks on three different doors and I need at least two keys to get in.

I only have one key.

I should take this time to add that our neighbors like to eat dinner outside at night but they don’t start dinner until later. So while we’re flipping out in the back of the house, they have a ring side seat. Great.

I try calling the realtor who tries to call the seller’s agent. And the neighbors are watching. Brian is trying to break in through a window but he can’t. Because I had to lock all of the windows the night before. I have protected my property from myself and quite effectively too.

Finally, the neighbors (Frank and Kim) called over, asking if everything was okay. I explain the situation. Trying to be helpful, they start trying to remember who the seller may have given keys to in the past.

On one hand, I desperately want them to think of someone who would have keys to the house. On the other hand, I don’t want anyone to have keys to the house.

Finally Kim exclaims: “Pete. Pete would have keys. We should call Pete.”

And I respond that calling Pete would be great because it’s really frustrating to only have one key and not be able to get into the house.

Then Frank says “oh if you locked the deadbolt, Pete won’t have a key to the house. Everyone knows that she never locked the deadbolt. She didn’t have a key for it.”

Now I’m left with several questions:
1. Who the hell is Pete?
2. Why does Pete have a key to my house?
3. Why in the world does the whole neighborhood know that the previous owner “never locked the deadbolt”?
I still don’t have answers to any of these questions. I’ve spent the last week trying to figure out who Pete is and I still haven’t made any headway. I’ve also been trying to find out if there are any other neighbors who might have keys. Even though I can get into my house now, its still unnerving to think that my house is open to this mysterous “Pete” and whatever friends he might bring with him.

And please don’t ask me why I haven’t changed the locks yet. Remember how I don’t have U&O yet? That’s why. I’m not allowed.

Navigating Twenty-Something Suburban Life

Adventures in First Time Home Buying: Who the hell is Pete?

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