House Hunting: Amusing, Odd, and Criminally Inclined Homes

If it wasn’t for the fact that it’s a whirlwind of stress as you grind through a slow, agonizing death march of compromising on what you thought you held most dear, house hunting would be a fantastic activity.  For one, not being homeless is a huge win.  You can’t take that for granted these days, especially given the Supreme Court’s latest ruling on the matter.  It’s also nice to play an adult version of “house” as you walk through potential homes, pointing at blank walls and making pithy comments like “Yeah, I bet a couch could totally go there.”

The best part about it, though, is getting glimpses into the lives of the current homeowners.  Sure, you’re getting a sanitized version of what their day to day is like, but that makes it even more fun to guess.  We’ve toured dozens of houses the past few weeks, and three really stand out as windows into the amusing, the odd, and the criminally inclined lives of local homeowners.

First, the amusing: Cat House.  We loved this house, but sadly it wouldn’t have worked out for us given a few externalities.  Nonetheless, touring it gave my wife and I each a sense of connection to the owners.  For my wife, it was the multiple closets and/or rooms stocked with Christmas decorations.  I kid you not, these folks had more Christmas décor on standby than Russia has functional tanks built in this century.

My enjoyment came from a more mobile source.  The entire time we toured Cat House, a giant Siamese cat followed a few paces behind, waiting for scratches.  This feline friend is the reason behind the name Cat House, which I took great joy in ensuring was the sole way any of us—including the realtor—referred to the home from then on.

Second, we had the Vegas Retirement Home.  This house had a great location, a view second to none, and a wonderful backyard.  It was also themed after a 1980s retirement home on the outskirts of Vegas, the kind of place where washed up off-Strip performers go to live out their last years in complete obscurity.  I’m talking off-tan walls, fake wood paneling stained the color of mediocrity, and an alarming dedication to backsplash tile reminiscent of straight to DVD set design for Stereotypical Alien Mothership.  It was the sort of place you knew from the moment you stepped in you’d never buy, but you couldn’t help yourself from walking through it to get the full experience. 

Finally, we come to my personal favorite: the Russian Mafia Safe House.  This was a charming home in a desirable neighborhood that, at first glance, met most of our requirements.  But as we toured it, more and more items popped up that felt off.  Eventually, they painted a picture that I’m convinced implies shenanigans of a less than legal nature.  Allow me to elaborate.

Point one: the external camera system.  When I say this, you probably envision the cameras Silicon Valley has been introducing the past decade to “disrupt” the home security scene.  You know the ones—cute and sleek with minimal functionality.  These were not those.  These were the old guard of security cameras, the kind that make professionals think twice and small children uncomfortable.  One pointed directly at anyone approaching the front door, its malevolent glare reminiscent of the Eye of Sauron as it silently asked How dare you enter these hallowed grounds?

Point two: the door.  Most houses have a deadbolt and a door lock for the front door.  For some security conscious folks, a chain lock may be added for peace of mind.  These homeowners felt the need for something with more heft.  They ripped out the entire door and replaced it with a modern day portcullis that, when engaged, shot at least eight solid steel bolts into the door frame.  It’s the type of door that laughs in the face of a local police department’s battering ram.

Point three: the master bedroom.  Many of the homes we toured had connections for TVs in the master bedroom.  While not something we want or need, I can understand why many would.  At first, I took the wiring on the wall here to be another one of those set ups, albeit an incredibly robust one.  A second look—followed by a third, and a question to our realtor—revealed that this was no simple cable TV arrangement.  It was the nervous system for a full security suite without the screens installed, a panopticon of integrated surveillance appropriate for federal prisons or the average Chinese living room.

Point four: the AC.  Colorado being a hot place during the summer, AC units are quite common.  Significantly less common are two full, separate AC units for one house, particularly with one of those systems feeding solely into a single room.  That leads me to said room in Point five. 

Point five: the server room.  I don’t know for sure that this room held servers, but for the life of me I can’t imagine what else it might have been.  For one, there’s the aforementioned dedicated AC unit.  Servers run hot and need significant cooling, so unless they were aging meat in a carpeted basement room, I don’t know many other reasons for dedicated temperature control of that level.  The room also was ready to rumble when it came to wiring, with outlets every two feet or so along its wall for electricity and dedicated Cat7 (yes, Cat7) ethernet cabling. 

Oh, and did I mention that the entire thing was maybe the size of two closets slapped together width wise?  With two separate doors to enter?  When I asked the realtor for what she thought the room’s purpose was, I got a puzzled brow, a few sentences aborted halfway through, and an eventual shrug.  It reminded me of a line from the show Resident Alien: “I’m getting a whole lot of random **** from this area right here.”

One of these points by themselves wouldn’t have meant much.  Heck, even two probably wouldn’t have resulted in more than a raised eyebrow.  But all of it together screams shady shenanigans, so I’m sticking with my original theory of Russian Mafia Safe House.

Obviously, we put an offer on it.  A very nice man named Vladimir called to let us know it was no longer on the market.  Shame, that.