"Champagne." I plunked the bottle down on the counter.
The bored clerk rang up my purchase. "Celebration?" she asked politely.
"I just bought my first house. I moved in today," I explained excitedly.
She looked marginally interested. "Your first night in a new house?"
I nodded happily, proudly, as she dredged up enough enthusiasm to continue. "Which house is that?"
The question thrilled me. It was evidence that it really was the small town I'd wanted to live in. She knew all the houses -- every one. "The old one on the edge of town."
The boredom disappeared. Her eyes widened. "The house no one would buy?"
Suddenly, my feeling of elation began to dissipate. "No one would buy it? Why not?" I asked hesitantly.
She swallowed and tried to act nonchalant. "Oh, nothing."
I leaned across the counter and didn't let her look away. "What's wrong with the house I just bought?"
She cleared her throat. "It's structurally sound," she improvised.
"What else is wrong?" I persisted.
