450 POSTEN AVENUE

I don’t remember this tiny home ever being occupied. All I knew was that it was stuck in an estate and that a tree had fallen on it. Once in a while someone from the estate supposedly “checked in” on the place. The next door neighbor put me in contact with one of the owners to take a peek inside. She was tired of looking at the old place but at the same time secretly dreaded having a potential neighbor in the future. She is kind of a loner. I guess the visual of the house every morning overruled her hermit status. Once inside, we quickly discovered that the person “checking in” on the place really didn’t check much beyond the couch. There was a nice stack of VHS porn videos and lube tubes as a welcoming gift. The latest movie debut must have been Love Potion #9, because the empty sleeve sat atop the VCR. The rest of the house was absolutely trashed after years of neglect. I later wondered what kind of passion must be involved to even sit on that couch, let alone do other unmentionable things and yet remain completely oblivious to the surrounding squalor. It must have been true love. And that’s how “the Love Shack” got its name.
The Love Shack required a lot of love to bring her back. I could poke my finger through the bathroom exterior wall. The bedroom looked like a backdrop for a horror film and I pulled a petrified possum out of the basement. My kids at least thought it was cool. But something about the place made me fall in love with it. Maybe the house did have cupid like powers. I loved the high ceilings and the original bead board. It still had the mantle and original molding. It was cute – or had the potential to be. The house was the perfect size, too. No space was wasted, and it was just right for a close couple. We poured a large concrete driveway and doubled the bathroom size. I wish I could find the happy couple that inspired the house’s namesake, but they probably wouldn’t recognize the place now, especially since they didn’t seem to notice it before.