About three weeks ago, my wife Barbara and I walked about five blocks from our apartment to look at a house. It wasn't exactly in the area we were looking at, and it wasn't exactly as big as we wanted. What it turned out to be was really, really great. We made an offer the next Monday morning, it was accepted, and we were well on our way to owning our second house.

The house is a bungalow, built in 1926. It's even in the architectural review of Durham County as a "typical" bungalow. The review even has a picture and everything. There's a good-sized basement and lots of little extras built into the place for the original owners, who finally moved out in 1986.

The house also has two lots of land next to it. Unbuildable, due to the stream which runs (mostly when it rains) through it. I've always wanted a stream in my backyard, and it seemed to cool that I could have a house in the middle of the city and a stream in the backyard, too.

We would have been the third owners of the house. It is in immaculate condition. No termite problems, no peeling paint. Gorgeous wood floors. A huge kitchen. Okay, we would have liked a third bedroom, but in most other ways this was a perfect house for us right now.

The current owner wanted a little time before getting out. We proposed July 16 and settled for August 13. Four whole months away. We figured that was more than enough time.

The owner uses a wheelchair to get around (though she does have some use of her legs). She's building a house in Georgia. She led us to believe that her new house was almost done, and that August was more than enough time for any finishing touches.

Last Wednesday, we got a call. The owner was back from Georgia. She just bought her land. She needed more time.

Well, we were upset. We figured this pretty much meant the end of our getting the house. We really want to be in a place by the beginning of the fall. But we agreed to meet with the owner and try to work something out.

A totally fruitless encounter, as it turned out. The owner proposed closing at the end of the year at the earliest. She started pleading a pity case, saying that "in her condition" she just couldn't stand moving twice, etc.

Now, understand, she may be in wheelchair, but this is a person who in no way projects the image of "disabled". Indomitable is a word which I would associate with her personality. This is not a woman who lets things get in her way. I kinda liked her for that.

So at this meeting, when she started pleading the disabled case, that she just couldn't find a place to live before her house was finished, and even if she did, her dog wouldn't be welcome, well, I started to get pissed off. She was trying to play on sympathy, and I just can't stand to hear people play that card. Past that, she started to plead poverty, even as she said she would fix all of the minor problems mentioned on the inspection report. There was no way out of the problem she presented. Any suggestion of closing when scheduled and then having her pay rent was out of the question (she couldn't afford that, even with the large amount of money she would be making on the house). This is not a pitiful person. She could have worked something out. She decided not to do so.

We agreed to let her out of the contract as long as she paid us the $195 for the inspection we had of the house. As far as we know, that deal was accepted.

We're really pissed.

It's more than losing the house. It was obvious that the current owner didn't want to leave. We would have agreed to a later date, except that we knew it was more than possible she would try to put it off more and more. The promise of more aggravation was what prompted us to pull the plug. It's infuriating, really. But what ticks me off the most is the way the owner tried to whine her way out of the contract.

I've always been of the mind that you treat "disabled" people like anyone else. We knew she might have a problem locating a temporary place in Georgia (or wherever), which is why we agreed on August 13. To come back and so blatantly play the crippled card is far past annoying. That's the part of this that really burns me up. The owner is not a person who needs pity. If she couldn't make the date, she should have said so. Period. See what we can work out, maybe. But to start whining about breaking her back and her knee and getting divorced and needing special bathroom facilities and not having any money and cranking out lots more sob stories was too much for me. That's not cool. It's dirty pool, at the best.

We had a house. Now we don't. We're investigating all opportunities, including checking out a downtown apartment complex which is using the shells of old tobacco warehouses. It's being built by a company owned by a couple of former Duke basketball players. We're also looking at houses. For rent or purchase. Who knows. We're just a little burnt at the moment. Time for beer.

Jon Worley is somewhat tired of looking for houses in Durham, N.C.