On a warm June morning in the two-thousand-fifteenth year of our Lord, an enterprising young lady awoke with a surplus of houses to sell. One house in particular on the Avenue of Potomac had been on the market for far too long, owing the delay to inbuilt defects over which she had no control. Regardless of fault, if the residence sat on the open market for much longer, she would almost certainly receive a mediocre review upon sale. On that very same morning, an enterprising young gentleman set out to find suitable homestead to settle. Unimpressed with mediocrity, only the finest of living would end his quest. It was then by happenstance that he found himself on the Avenue of Potomac, where the enterprising young lady was patiently waiting to quell his search. “You’re late,” complained the lady upon his arrival. “Sorry,” the gentleman replied, and shrugged.

The lady and the gentleman perused the house in tandem, with the lady pointing the gentleman’s attention to the aesthetic highlights, though also overshadowing the presentation with her own beauty and wit. Indeed, the gentleman was so distracted by the lady herself, that his eyes glazed over the obvious defects that had kept the house on the market for so long. By the time the tour ended, the only thing of which the gentleman was sure of was that he wished to see the lady again, and could only think of one method in this respect. “I’ll take it!” the gentleman exclaimed, and banged his fist on the counter. “Wonderful!” agreed the lady, relieved to finally make the sale.

Unfortunately for the lady, the county had procedures in place to protect lovestruck buyers such as the gentleman, and an independent inspector was appointed to assist in the purchase. Well the inspector saw right through the lady’s charm, and noticed the house’s defects almost instantly, advising the gentleman to back out of the sale. The lady had swindled the gentleman from the inspector’s point of view, and the house would collapse in no time at all. The gentleman was in a bind. Without the house, he wouldn’t see the lady again; but with the house, he wouldn’t have a penny spend otherwise once it collapsed to the ground. If only there was a way to leave the house behind and still see the lady, he thought, and then finally came up with a suitable plan.

“I don’t want the house anymore,” the gentleman explained to the lady, “but I’ll buy you pasta instead.” “I guess,” the lady replied. Yada, yada, yada…and now the lady and gentleman are getting married on the thirteenth of September, in the two-thousand-nineteenth year of our Lord.