Actually, rosie, the bathroom wallpaper was very similar. Also, look at this picture of my dearly departed kitty (she died in December of a congenital kidney defect – she was only 5). It’s like we’re living in the same house at different times. Someone should make a movie like that. Oh, wait…
Anyway, before swampy sprains something trying to guess, I give you my story:
The Worst Walk-Through Ever. Or, How I know My Realtor Wasn’t Wearing Underpants
We bought our house from an elderly couple. The man was a nice, gentle, quiet creature who was slowly dying. The woman was a shrew, and hated by the whole neighborhood. She had sued or called the police on just about everyone. They were moving to Florida to be closer to their children, and so that she’d have a support network when her husband passed away. They had some problems with the movers, and asked if we would be willing to let them stay a few days past the closing so they didn’t have to stay in a hotel. Because we’re nice (but not as nice as FCM dammit) we felt sorry for the old man, and said yes. Note: NEVER do this.
So, we had the walk-through a couple of hours before the closing. It was me, my husband, the woman selling the house (“Evil Abby”), the realtor (“Jill”), and my mother (“Mom”). Mom was there because she lives around the corner and, well, she’s nosy. 
It was early March, there was snow on the ground, and it was wet outside. The woman we bought the house from, while stuck in the 70’s design-wise, was meticulous about her housekeeping. She insisted that everyone remove their shoes before leaving the front hall. My husband & I enter first, take off our shoes, and step aside. Mom comes in & chats with Evil Abby, as they’ve been neighbors for 20+ years, and then comes Jill. Jill is middle-aged and a little sloppy, in general. A nice enough person, just not very pulled together, especially for a realtor in this market. I don’t hold that against her in the slightest – I just want you to have a good mental image. She’s wearing big rubber boots with a skirt. So Jill leans awkwardly against the wall and starts pulling off her boots. And the pantyhose start to slip off, too. She’s talking to me & my husband as this is happening, so we’re right there with her. Then, it happens. There’s a flopping sound. My husband has a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face as he stares at the floor. And there, right in front of us, on the floor in the hallway is….
The maxi-pad Jill was wearing 2.8 seconds ago.
UUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH! Why did you make me say it??
Anyway, my husband couldn’t move, and couldn’t look away. He opened his mouth, either to say “Oh. My. God. Look,” or to vomit. We’ll never know, because I recovered, grabbed his arm & pulled him into the next room, saying, “Honey, look at these amazing light switches!” Mom & Evil Abby were doing the neighborhood gossip thing, and didn’t notice. Jill swiped it up and ran to the bathroom.
So, at the closing later that day, all my husband could think was,
“I saw that woman’s maxi-pad.”
He couldn’t make eye contact with her. Personally, I would’ve quit my job that day and moved to a different state.
I told you you didn’t want to know.
I’m very excited about being able to foist work on someone else.
