Travel Reference
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Back in D.C., we were in a dither.
We had always prided ourselves on being cautious, sensible people. But buying a house
in what was essentially a foreign country, without even having seen all of its rooms, didn't
seem to fit neatly into either the “cautious” or “sensible” category. In fact, most people
would have filed it under “deranged.”
And yet.
Some tiny voice told us this was our chance—maybe our one and only chance ever—to
squeak into the Vieques real estate market before things got too expensive for our modest
means. Also, we didn't have time to make endless trips to the island on the off-chance that a
realtor would deign to show us more properties.
In short, this felt like an all or nothing game.
In the past we would have chosen the “nothing” option—we would've walked away. As
much as we may have fantasized, at various points in our lives, about severing the surly
bonds of employment, or winning PowerBall, or joining a rock band, in truth we were mid-
level managers in jobs that paid moderately well and offered excellent benefits.
In other words, we were not, in any sense of the word, gamblers.
But here we were, hovering at the edge of the real estate roulette table, our sweaty palms
clutching the chips that would determine our future, agonizingly uncertain about whether to
slide those chips onto the green baize square labeled “shambolic house with ocean views”
or simply walk away.
We talked it over, in a fashion. But talking over momentous decisions, I've learned
through the years, is more or less a waste of time. Sure, you can talk over getting your chim-
ney swept or your carpets shampooed. But with most big decisions, you've already made up
your mind before you sit down to discuss them formally. Trust me on this. All the hoopla
that follows is just chit chat.
“Are you sure about this?” Michael began uneasily.
“Well…” I said, pretending not to be sure at all (complete certitude was sure to be a los-
ing strategy).
“I mean, we're behaving like a couple of drunken teenagers.”
“I guess you're right.”
A long silence ensued.
“On the other hand…” Michael continued, his voice trailing off.
“Yeah…hmm.”
Another silence.
“It's not a bad deal, when you think about it,” he went on.
“True.”
“And we love the island.”
“I know I do.”
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