POTTY HIDE-N-GO-SEEK

I am watching HGTV, the only station I watch consistently, and there is a marathon of House Hunters on, which is almost silly to even say because anyone who watches HGTV will ask the more rhetorical question, "When ISN'T House Hunters on?"

It is both enticing and insulting to see how much cheaper homes are in other parts of the country. It's encouraging to know that I might be able to afford a teeny cottage in the middle of the mountains somewhere in the central USA that will prevent me from retiring to a van in a Wal-Mart parking lot. I also find out that Seattle prices are as asinine as Boston prices are, which I find shocking. I can see NYC and LA and San Diego competing for Boston housing costs, but Seattle?  One more retirement spot right off my list.

But the best episodes of the HGTV show are when the crew goes across the pond to House Hunters International, particularly the rental episodes.  When you're in the market to buy, you can do whatever you want to with the property, and the buildings often come as is.  But when you're ponying up rent money, and good rent money at that, you might expect to have the basic necessities, like a toilet, a sink, and electrical outlets.

With the international edition, though, this is not always the case.

For instance, a couple of the Indonesian homes have bathrooms ... but no toilets.  They instead have squat holes.  At my age, I'm not squatting over a tube in the floor.  Okay, I'll be honest with you, I'm not doing the squat hole at any damn age.  I've seen my share of port-a-potties and outhouses, and that's as close to a squat hole as I intend to get.

Sometimes the apartments have access to outside space.  This is wonderful, unless access to that space requires a trek through someone's bedroom, which is often the case.  I don't want my guests wandering past my skivvies to have a burger on the patio, and I don't really want anyone wandering around the patio peering in the doorway and seeing my skivvies.  Or me in my skivvies, which is even more disturbing.

But tonight's rental offering is classic.  The apartments are in Germany, where presumably they have things like running water and basic appliances, especially when renters are required to cough up top dollar for monthly fees.  Presumably, that is.  Imagine the couple's chagrin and my jaw dropping when the rental agent told the couple nonchalantly, "You bring your own kitchen."

Say, what?

That's right.  The kitchen was empty.  EMPTY, as in no counters, not outlets, and no water pipes anywhere.  Just three walls and a floor and a ceiling.  Apparently in Germany renters are supposed to provide counters, cabinets, appliances, piping, and electricity when they move in.  I'm assuming they will be able to disassemble everything afterward and take it with them to ... oh ... I guess another German rental.

Even the Indonesian squat hole house has a stove in it.

Maybe it is a fair trade.  I mean, the German house does have a potty.  Maybe they can rig something up in the bathroom, like a hot plate that fits over the small porcelain sink and turning the porcelain toilet tank into a food cooler.  But in all serious, who in their right mind pays top dollar to have a kitchen-less apartment?  Who in the hell even thinks this is a good idea?  And it must work pretty well because I've seen it on other shows, too, but usually with a for-sale property.

Ultimately the couple goes with a city apartment that does indeed come with a kitchen.  They are not required to bring the kitchen with them, which is good.  Not many people keep complete cabinetry packed away with their photo albums and wall decor.

I can laugh all I want, and I can poke fun of the people who buy and rent on this show, but truth be told in this economy and starting my career so late, my only retirement plan is a tent and the generosity of the Wal-Mart corporation that lets people sleep in their vehicles in their parking lots.  I won't be bringing my kitchen with me, either, but I will have my skivvies with me.  Like the people on House Hunters, I know my priorities.

[Happy New Year's Eve, everybody.  Watch out for errant squat holes when ringing in the midnight hour.]