I’m an Adult and I Say, “Damn You and Your Mortgage!”

Hello everyone. I’m an adult. Like, a real adult. I could go downstairs in the morning and pour whipped cream down my throat before work and call it breakfast. I could fashion a hat out of a nudey magazine and wear it while urinating in my garden and no one would stop me.


Oh they’d ponder the existence of my moral compass and quietly agree about the nature of my upbringing, but that’s as far as their authority would get them. They have no power here!


You see, being an adult is all about making decisions. I think it was the character Eddie from the hit UK sitcom Bottom who once said, “shall I get drunk now, or shall I get…VERY drunk now?” Part of growing up is choosing these things yourself whilst either facing the consequences or eschewing them completely.


Alcoholism and rudimentary hat designs aside, let’s talk about something more grounded adults would discuss in polite company. Let’s talk about renting or mortgaging a property.


I know, this crap is boring but one day you may wish to pass this information onto your offspring so long as you omit the top three paragraphs of this article if you want them to become a senator or not have debilitating diet-related illnesses.


First off, it’s good to know where I stand on whether or not one should rent a home or get a mortgage. Banks speak highly of strange and seemingly arbitrary figures and use words like “deposit”, “interest rate” and “those pens are attached, please leave them be.” Getting a mortgage is such an adult thing to do while renting is something that is seen as the first stepping stone to independent living. It’s like a gateway drug to new and more fulfilling ways of paying for a building.


“You got any more of those tenancy agreements, man?” you say as you itch your forearm nervously down a back alleyway.


Now I’m a private tenant and have been for several years, despite the fact that social etiquette tells me I should be buying my own place. Poo-poo to that, I say! I love renting property and I will give you one very simple reason why:


Landlords are immortal!


While buying your home is probably the most adult thing you can do in our society, you are effectively tying yourself down to something that you are solely responsible for. With a private residence, my rent doesn’t just pay for the room I sleep in and the fridge I fill with whipped cream. It also pays for the convenience of having someone who can take care of problems around the home.


I’m not a man-about-the-house type of guy, if truth be known. Oh sure, I can change a lightbulb or fix a loose door handle, but the second you start bringing wiring or plumbing into the equation, that’s the moment I throw everything in the air dismissively and go eat whipped cream. Renting a property from someone who owns it is like them saying, “here you look after the place…but call me if shit goes wrong.” Win-win.


What’s even greater about my situation is I live with my landlady. You might think this would put me at a certain disadvantage. Nope. She’s not some disgruntled, dried up prude with a fixation on loose-fitting tights and hairy elbows.


Our landlady is probably one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. In my eyes she’s a school teacher first, a friend second and a property owner third. She even managed to score us a free 42-inch TV for the living room. Bitch, keep your mortgage! I ain’t ever buying my own place!


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