I had been living on the west coast and, due to a promotion at work (and recent break-up with a philandering actor boyfriend) needed a place to live out east. I was on a short-term lease at an apartment I felt was too expensive for what I was getting and wanted to find a home of my own. So, on a beautiful Sunday I found myself driving around looking for open-houses. I hadn't found a Realtor for myself but -- as I was bored and wanting to check out the lay of the land - I decided to see what was being listed and, if possible, talk with some potential agents to see if any were worth giving my business to.
The first houses I found were not for me. Cookie-cutter homes with tiny rooms and few unique features. I didn't want the same house as everyone else in the neighborhood. I wanted it to be something special and unique. I had almost resigned myself to the fact that nothing was going to jump out at me when I made a wrong turn and ended up on a road that wound through a part of town I had never been in and headed out into a more rural area. I kept telling myself to "turn around" but something compelled me to keep driving, and to my surprise I saw an "open house" sign along the side of the road five minutes later.
I remember chuckling to myself and thinking "either that sign has been here for months or the real estate agent thinks anybody drives on this road." I had been driving for twenty minutes and had not seen another car. Still, it was worth the risk to see if there was indeed a house available and open for inspection ... so I followed the arrow on the sign and turned up a side road.
A few moments later and I saw it. A gorgeous house nestled within a small community of about fifteen houses that all looked inviting and -- most importantly -- none looked the same as the other. They weren't mansions but they were all very nice. I saw the "open house" sign in front of the one at the end of the road and thought two things: "I'm not going to be able to afford it" and "if I can afford it, this is the home I am going to move into."
There were no cars in front and, according to the sign, I only had fifteen minutes before the open-house was finished so I pulled in front and hurried to the door. I stepped inside and was welcomed into a cozy foyer complete with hardwood floors and fine wood trim and ...
... and then I was welcomed by the real estate agent. He walked in from the rear of the house and I'm sure my mouth dropped open a little. He was at least six foot two and wore a charcoal gray suit that fit him as if it were custom made for his body -- which was slim and taught and obviously well taken care of. His hair was a dirty blonde and styled carefully. Everything about him was well put together and appealing. He smiled and extended his hand.
"Hi, I'm Randy ... thanks for stopping by."
For a moment I couldn't think of my own name but finally I remembered it, smiled and shook his hand.
"Come in, let me show you around." And he showed me the house in detail -- extolled the wonderful layout of the first floor and showed me the three over-sized bedrooms on the second floor. Every room we entered, every corner we turned made me fall in love with this house more and more. Randy pointed out the features and the taxes and what the schools were like in this area. I was half-listening to what he was saying, I was focused more on the way his mouth moved or how his tight buttocks looked as he walked up the stairs ahead of me.
"Are you from the area?" he said - the usual Realtor small talk.
"No," I said "I moved here for my job. I'm originally from Los Angeles."
"LA! Well, this neck of the woods is going to take some getting used to I think. It's awfully quiet around here!"
"I think I could use a little peace and quiet" I said politely.
"But not in the bedroom, right?!" He laughed and I laughed with him, not really sure if the tone of his question was the slightest bit suggestive -- but hoping it was.
"It is beautiful in the winter out here" he said as he headed down the stairs towards the living room.
"I'm not a fan of winter," I said honestly. I hated snow. However, I loved all the money I was being paid to move here for my job so I could handle four months of winter.
"So, no skiing or snowboarding for you?" he asked as we entered the kitchen.
"No" I said "I'm more interested in indoor sports."
He smiles politely as we started heading back downstairs. "That's what I figured by looking at you. I could see that you keep yourself in shape. That's why I wanted to save this part of the house to show you until last ... I think it's going to cinch it for you!"
He opened a door and we headed down to the basement and I was, indeed, impressed. It was finished but not in the wood panel and shag carpet of most finished basements ... this one was ready for a fitness center that would have made any professional trainer jealous. There was no equipment in it, but you could see the potential. A wall of mirrors to admire your workout, a bathroom with Jacuzzi tub and shower was off to the side, and a curious area in the corner covered with what looked like -- and I would know better than anyone - wrestling mats.
"The previous owner had the mats put in for his judo lessons," Randy explained. "He ran several studios in the area. The way had had them installed it was easier to just leave them. He was hoping the next owner would be an athletic person who would appreciate having them."
I walked over to the mats and stepped on the corner of one. Soft, not mushy like some of the wrestling mats I had been on and certainly better than any of the motel mattress I had rolled around on.
Randy cleared his throat "what sort of indoor sports do you like? We couldn't be so lucky as to hope one of them was judo?"
We both laughed a little.
"Wrestling" I said, matter of fact.
Randy smiled. "I'm not sure if you mean the sport or the kind you do with a woman in the bedroom?"
I smiled and turned to him "it would be with a man, actually."
"Oh?" he said. It wasn't an "oh" like he was surprised -- more like he was happy to hear that.
"I hope that doesn't bother you?"
"Not at all!" he said as he stepped closer to the wrestling mats. "Of course, it's not often a potential client gets so intimate with their personal life."
"I'm sure you don't want to hear all the details about it." I said. Randy walked up closer to me and smiled.
"Maybe you're right" he said stepping onto the mat with me, looking at me. "It's probably one of those things that you're better off demonstrating?"
I took a step closer to Randy. "The problem is, Randy ... the kind of wrestling I would be using these mats for isn't collegiate style -- or even the crap you see on television on Saturday."
"What kind is it?" Randy asked, obviously intent on finding out.
