by Patti
As a former Realtor and a generally fascinated-by-human nature person, I’m a little obsessed with House Hunters. Yes, I now know the truth about the show: that the house hunters featured on the show have actually already chosen a home and are only weeks from moving in, and the 3 “choices” they are faced with are total fake-outs. (Which, as a former Realtor, I can also tell you is totally unrealistic. How dreamy my weekends would have been if I only ever had to show 3 properties to a buyer.)
Oh? You didn’t know this? Well, let me do you a life favor by saying this right now: Reality television, my ass.
Anyway, despite the fake-out factor, and the fact that because I know the choices these people agonize over are not even real so their reactions make them look like budget movie actors, I still can’t get enough of the show.
And why, I don’t know. Because all I do the entire time is yell at the television. I cringe when the woman half of the couple complains about how there is no way on earth she can possibly cook in a kitchen that has a working stove, oven, microwave and refrigerator because THERE ARE NO GRANITE COUNTERTOPS MY GOD HOW IS THIS DOABLE; how there is only one sink in the master; how the closet, which is the size of my first apartment, cannot possibly fit her 8943 pairs of shoes. And it never fails that when the man spots a spare room or a basement, it instantly becomes his “man cave”. I loathe the phrase ‘man cave’ with the fiery passion of 6 billion burning suns. And when they both complain about the spots on the carpet or the paint color, as if these things are permanent deal-breakers that can never ever be fixed or changed, I roll my eyes so hard it hurts.
Yet, I can’t stop watching.
And getting mad in the process.
As a woman who was pregnant and lived through a renovation (I had to pee in a bucket. A BUCKET!), and still survived with ‘only’ one bathroom for 3 people even after said renovation; as a person who has never ever had a master bathroom, much less 2 sinks in one bathroom, but somehow still managed to stay clean; as a person who has yet to know what it is to have granite in her kitchen yet still manages to feed her family and not eat on the floor, these House Hunter women? Kind of piss me off. I mean, I understand wanting what you want when you are paying a good chunk-o-change for a house, and yes, the luxuries are nice and let’s get real, who wouldn’t want them, but my God people, perspective!
And M’s ‘man cave’? Consists of lying on the couch with our kid flung across him, and my foot in his face. When he is really in need of some space, he will go to the garage and break out the tools and ‘fix’ things on his car. Otherwise? We are all stuck together. Every room in the house belongs to all of us. There are no ‘Man Zones’. Yet! He somehow manages to survive and remain a man in the process! It’s amazing!
I must be a masochist, because as pissed off and eye-rolly as I get when watching this show, I still can’t get enough. Apparently, I plan to House Hunt my way to my own death-by-annoyance, and as long as there are granite countertops in Heaven, that’s fine with me.
