Last Sunday, J sent up a distress call from Home Depot's paint department. "Can you come help me, I have been standing here in confusion for two hours. I desperately need some input." I grabbed my keys and headed down the road to the local big box store. At the entrance, John greeted me with relief on his face and directed me to the paint department. He showed me the fruit of his effort thus far--a lone paint sample that he thought would be good for the bathroom. Yes, the man needed some help. He stated that he knew he needed some help of the female kind when he startled a fellow shopper by whimpering. J had chosen blue for the bathroom, when I asked him about trim he said that he thought white would be good for the trim. I asked him if he wanted it to look like Wedgewood. "Wedgewood?" he responded. Rather than get into a long explanation of what exactly Wedgewood is, I dropped it and got on with asking him questions about what he envisioned his home to be like. After about 30 minutes, we had settled on the general palette for most of the house.
J said that the house was in pretty bad shape and that a few coats of paint would increase the value considerably. He suggested that I come see the house before the paint so I would have an idea. So yesterday I headed up to the East Side of Lancaster to see J's new home. J had been house hunting for several months and decided on a bank owned home that was very reasonable. The home hung in the balance for about 5 weeks because it was not up to code and the furnace had to be replaced--something about it being a fire hazard--the bank was sure it wanted to invest the repair fees to get it off its hands.
As I pulled up to the knee high weeds in the front yard, I realized that this home with zero curb appeal could have benefited from a sell-your-home-makeover TV show. But this being a bank repo, they had little interest in putting anything into the home to increase the asking prices--seller's loss, buyer's advantage. Good job J.
As J gave me a tour of the home, it was clear that it was a fixer upper and desperately in need of a new coat of paint to cover up the hand prints and God knows what else was on the walls. The home has 3 bedrooms--I have claimed the middle one as my own. If I ever get transferred back up to the Antelope Valley, I will help J with his mortgage rather than find an apartment.
The J explained that really the home had a 4th bedroom. He then asked me to close my eyes until he got everything prepared for the FULL EFFECT. Huh?!? I heard the garage door open and sunlight hit my face. He then led me into the garage telling me this is where the former family kept their weird cousin. WTF?! Ran through my head that was trying to take in the dark dingy room with a gazillion electrical outlets. John explained that this was the only room in the house that was actually up to code. Wha...? Huh? my brain refused to process. J interrupted the mental confusion with.."Everyone that has seen the house from work, think it is a pot growing room." Oh, then it all clicked into place. Not a pot growing room, I thought, a METH LAB!
Later J, with a devious smile on his face told me that he planned to tear out the top half of the room and make are bar out it--christening it the Meth Lab. You see, I told him several weeks ago that former love interest Doug had a bar in the garage. I thought it was pretty cool--they guys could come over, hang out and not disturb the house at all. J thought he might borrow the idea. Good luck on it all J.
Footnote: Just talked to drug busting older brother and he said the room could be one of three things--most likely a meth lab, also likely a pot room and possibly just the get away for a carpentry inclined husband--a man room. Man room doesn't have the same ring as meth lab. So I am going to go with meth lab.
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