Wednesday night we excitedly rushed out of our respective offices, met up at Mary’s house, raced to the car, and then ever-so-slowly drove down to Kemah in Houston’s rush hour traffic.
It was time to sign on the dotted line.
I wasn’t nervous at all – then again, it wasn’t my money. Thanks, Fred.
The paperwork at the broker’s office took about ten seconds. Mary signed, and it was a done deal. Much less than I expected, so weird I got no papers at all on the boat -- not even a receipt. Hopefully they come in the mail!
We had hoped to move the boat that night, but as it was cold and raining, we just went to sit inside of it for a few minutes and enjoy the ambiance instead. We got to have that great moment, when you buy something new, where you just run around and open everything. It's even more fun in an old boat because there is so much weird stuff to find!
The broker left us a bottle of champagne in the boat.
We decided not to pop it open because we immediately had to drive an hour back to Houston. Instead we left it in the refrigerator – something we couldn't do on the Seahorse. However, we probably should have gone for it because by the end of the weekend, we still hadn't had a chance to toast together to this new phase in our life. Yeah, I don't understand how in a weekend full of celebration there was never the right moment for champagne.
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