went to a househunters-watching party over the weekend; here’s my impression of the show
VOICEOVER: She wants a historically accurate thirteenth century castle in the heart of bustling downtown L.A. He has his heart set on living in a small metallic orb that would float over a bottomless gorge, beyond space and time. Can this pair of newlyweds see eye to eye???
WIFE: The location is nice but I don’t know about these staircases…I just had my heart set on an escalator made of sand and artisan brie.
HUSBAND: Well it’s definitely not a small floating metallic orb.
REALTOR: That…would defy several laws of physics.
WIFE (squinting): Do you have anything that is simultaneously larger, cheaper, newer, and more historic?
WIFE: And I need a big kitchen. I love to cook!
(Cut to footage of the wife in her current kitchen, wearing an apron and surrounded by pots and pans. She is hitting a banana with a hammer. On the counter next to her is a pile of doll hair.)
HUSBAND: Yeah, get her a nice kitchen. Of course, I won’t be spending any time in there, ha ha! (His laugh is loud but his eyes are so empty. They are empty all the way back.)
WIFE: And I need a room for my shoes. That is simply non-negotiable.
HUSBAND: Also, if we can swing it with our budget, I’d love a finished basement where I can really unwind and stew in my toxic masculinity and repressed emotion. And hardwood floors.
WIFE: And hardwood floors.
HUSBAND AND WIFE IN EERIE UNISON: Hardwood. Floors. (somehow it sounds like way more than two voices, more like the collective whisper of an army)
REALTOR: Okay, I will certainly, um. See what I can do? Anyway, this next house, it’s a metallic orb hanging on a sturdy cord near a ravine—
WIFE: Well it’s definitely not a genuine thirteenth century castle—
HUSBAND AND WIFE: (stare at each other in open contempt)
REALTOR: Heyyy so why don’t we take a look inside?
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