It’s no secret that there is an epidemic plaguing the United States: "House Hunters" obsession. There doesn’t seem to be any known cure to the fascination with this HGTV program. Even if you are not inflicted by this seemingly harmless disease, you may walk in on a family member partaking in the indulgence of the show. You say “can we watch something else,” and before you know it you’re sucked into hour 5 out of 12 of the House Hunters marathon screaming, “UGH they should’ve chosen house #3!” So invested. So involved. So infected.
This epidemic has taken our society by storm, and there is no end in sight. It all began with the original House Hunters, where you’re making bets on whether Susan and Jim will choose the spacious ranch far from civilization, or the cramped condo that is close to historic downtown and Jim’s job. And you thought okay, this I can handle. Then, "House Hunters" went international had you staying tuned to find out if the Willis family will be able to find a house in their long-time vacation destination of Saint Kitts and Nevis, with all of the comforts of their Nebraskan-suburb but with the amenities of paradise. And at this point you’re thinking there’s no way this can get worse. But oh no, my friend, it happened. It has gotten worse…
Ever heard of "Tiny House Hunters"? Yes, you read that right: TINY "House Hunters." For those of you who don’t already know, "Tiny House Hunters" follows people around as they search for; you guessed it, tiny homes. Just imagine unique combinations of trailer homes and sheds, and those are tiny homes. Now, no offense to anyone who prefers this lifestyle or lives in a tiny home for whatever reason. My only issues with "Tiny House Hunters," and any spin-off of "House Hunters," is that each episode is the same! And yet, I have been spending my sunny Saturdays watching the "Tiny House Hunters" marathons. It’s a sickness and I think I need help. (For those of you who suffer from this disease too, the marathon is every Saturday at 1pm. Sorry, I’m an enabler).
Each episode starts out the same: it’s some empty-nest, middle age +, single woman named Judy, but spelled weird like Judee, who is looking to relocate to Southern California or Hawaii. There are some exceptions like the newlywed couple who would rather spend their money on traveling and experiences than a house, or the family of six looking to downsize. Yep, FAMILY OF SIX. But for argument’s sake, I’ll use the Judee example.
So Judee doesn’t have a lot of money to spend and is sick of throwing her money away on rent. She is also kind of a hippie so she wants to adopt an alternative lifestyle. She is accompanied by a similar-in-age friend named Nancy, who is skeptical of this whole tiny house thing and is afraid to address her concerns about her friend on national television. The realtors of all House Hunters are the unsung heroes of society for putting up with anyone who is on the show. Her realtor is Pat, an older woman who probably took a few Xanax before meeting with Judee.
Judee has some non-negotiables for Pat: a washer/dryer, a contemporary style, a walk-in closet, tons of storage, stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, the fountain of youth, a view off of the Cliffs of Moher, hardwood floors, and PLENTY of room for entertaining. Oh, and Judee has a budget of $7.
The first house is a modest 170 sq ft, outdoorsy cabin house that is on wheels that is at the top of Judee’s price range. Judee is skeptical right off the bat, as the house isn’t contemporary enough for her liking. They enter, and Nancy is floored by how small the space is and questions all of Judee’s choices. The realtor shows them the corner of the house that is the “living room” and then they step 2 paces into the kitchen. Judee likes that the house has a stove and a fridge, because houses should have that, but inquires about the washer/dryer. And like a magician pulls a rabbit out of a hat, Pat shows her the combination washer/dryer that is located in what we all thought was a regular cabinet under the counter. Amazing. Judee doesn’t like that the bathroom is so small, Pat and Nancy both exchange annoyed looks. They then venture to the sliding ladder that leads to the queen-sized loft. Judee loves it. It has a peaked ceiling, a skylight, and plenty of room for her to sit upright in her own bed if she so chooses. Nancy admits that the skylight is kind of cool. Judee likes the house but is ready to see the next one.
House #2 is a whopping 120 sq ft and way over budget, but has the contemporary look and feel that Judee is going for. All three of them can’t fit in the house, so Nancy volunteers to wait outside. Judee loves the interior: hardwood floors, stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, but sadly no cooktop. Pat suggests she buys a hot plate or a microwave, but that will just add to the high cost of the house. The bathroom is oddly spacious with a waterfall shower and lined with handcrafted tile. The bed loft is a little short and she doesn’t have a stove and the living area only fits one lawn chair, but Judee absolutely loves the crown molding and sconces.
The third house is pretty basic, but is not mobile, so Judee can’t park it by the beach. It’s a staggering 200 sq ft and way under budget. The house is bare boned and would need to be flipped, but the budget would allow for some renovations. The inside basically looks like a huge shed, but Pat shows her all of its potential pointing out where things could go. They walk out of a door into a fenced in area and see a hose, the shower, and a hole in the ground, the “composting” toilet. Nancy is appalled, asking Judee if she could really feel safe doing her business out in the open. Ever the skeptic, Judee is iffy about the bathroom. Pat suggests she build walls, install piping and electricity and create an indoor bathroom. She almost suggests that Judee just buys a real house, but she retains. Judee likes the idea of building her own home from scratch, but all of the renovations would add $2.4 million dollars to the cost of the home.
After an agonizing commercial break, Judee and Nancy reconvene at a local coffee shop and talk out her options. Option 3 is immediately off the table, as it is basically a box with a roof. Meanwhile, you and your mom are on the couch guessing which house she would pick. You both agree: she’d be a fool to NOT pick house #1. But to your dismay, she picks option #2: the over-budget contemporary tiny house without a way to heat food. To pay for this house, Judee has to sell her soul to the "House Hunter" overlords. At this point, you’re so upset.
But because this disease is so relentless, you watch the rest of the marathon until you drift off into a "House Hunters" induced coma.
