Unreal Estate - The Coconut Chronicles: Two Guys, One Caribbean Dream House - page 26

“No way. Too cold for me. I came here straight from Boca five years ago. Frankly I
never go above the 30th parallel. Never have, never will.”
While this was an undeniably fascinating world view, I decided it was time to steer the
conversation back to the subject of real estate.
“Now, about a house.”
The tiny glimmer of animation she had summoned for her diatribe against cold weather
flickered and died out.
“Right,” she said, her eyes glazing over.
I was puzzled—wasn't selling houses her livelihood? But I plunged ahead, determined
to make my pitch.
“We're looking for three bedrooms and two baths with ocean views for about $250,000.
Or less.”
There was long, stunned silence. She glanced absently at her computer screen and, pre-
sumably for appearance's sake, tapped a couple of random keys. “Sorry, nothing in that
range,” she announced, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand.
“Nothing?” Michael asked incredulously.
She cleared her throat and spoke very slowly, as if addressing mentally-challenged ad-
olescents.
“What you've just described is what everybody who comes to Vieques for a couple of
days and falls in love with the island is looking for. And it's all gone. There's nothing left.
Kaput.”
Five minutes later we skulked out of Suzanne's office feeling as if we'd just broken
wind at a tea party.
“She's quite the saleslady,” Michael remarked.
“Very persuasive,” I agreed, trying to match his breezy tone.
But we both felt dejected.
Even worse, I couldn't stop wondering about that ointment.