Every so often my mom thinks of buying a condo. She qualifies for what sh thought was a nice chunk of change.
“I’m trying to decide if I want a condo,” she said to someone at my networking lunch.
“I can recommend a mortgage broker. She’ll tell you if you can buy…”
“No, I’ve got a broker. I’m trying to decide if it’s a good investment with the Seattle market still high.”
“A real estate agent specializing in condos…”
“No. What I need is an economic forecast.”
I accompanied my mom as we looked at 3 condos. We would have looked at 4 but Cathy rejected one before we got to the stairs…no elevator. Looks like a remodeled Motel 6.
One condo had bright yellow walls, just the color of a ready-to-eat tangerine. It also had the ugliest carpet I’ve seen in a long, long time. A dog ie me could A northern exposure and a few small windows.
Another had a bizarre floor plan. Two mid-size bedrooms. Kitchen set up near the window…blocking off the living area.
Then Cathy brought the agent back our apartment. It’s not that big — it’s just got a fantastic layout with well-used space. It’s on the 3d floor, southern exposure, sliver of a view of the Sound if you look out the window at an angle. Fantastic location. Soundproofed.
All her optimism faded. “You’ll have trouble finding a place this nice,” she said.
See, Cathy’s apartment building was built to be a condo unit.
She’s not that young (don’t tell her). We might both be gone before the place goes condo. I sure hope so.
Or maybe I’ll move to a city where the real estate values are declining.