the dumping station

Real quick little story here about one of our fondest house-hunting memories that is sure to be something we'll be able to tell our kids, and even our grandchildren.

See, this is our first serious search for a house. So much of the stuff we're seeing is new to us.

So real quick, we were checking out the basement, partly finished, huge, even with a full bath down there!

We happened upon an area towards the back of the basement, that appeared to be a mini room, but it was concrete, and only about chest-high. There appeared to be a door. And by door, I mean a curtain, blocking the entrance.

Opening up the curtain, we noticed a TOILET and a SINK.

That's it.

Heckyeahwoman and I shared an audible chuckle, audible enough for the realtor to hear us and make his way over. The three of us gazed in splendor at the toilet. Finally, waiting for Heckyeahwoman to make her way onto the rest of the glorious basement, the realtor shared his two cents:

"Yeah, that's the dumping station."

It gets better; on the other side there of the toilet, there was another same-sized chest-high room. Only this one housed a shower. Totally an army barrack, prison style full bath in the basement. And here, full bath means super sketch dumping station and concrete shower.

I loved it; Heckyeahwoman hated it. And just like in real life, hate trumps love, so we're not getting that house.

:(