Are Conversation Pits Back? Part One

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Listen, you all know the drill: The more normal it looks, the less normal it is on the inside. Like your sophomore prom date.

I don’t know what the benevolent Wednesday WTF fairies are drinking these days, but they bestowed me with not one but TWO homes with some kind of conversation pit-type situation and a whole lot of a bunch of other situations.

I almost considered doing both at once (that’s what he said) but then I realized it was too much (that’s what … you know, nevermind) for one sitting.

So two-parter it is.

Now, one thing I have learned is that people are either pro-pit or anti-pit, with very little in between. I see the appeal, for instance, but I’m certain that at some point I’m going to forget it’s there, and fall face first.

Now, our house today is in New Jersey. Toms River, to be exact. It’s roughly 5,600 square feet of 1982, and you pick up that vibe from the get go. This house is playing it straight with you.

When you first walk in, you immediately see two things – a pool table where the formal living room should be (I think). Then you see the conversation pit which, thanks to a skylight, looks like heaven is shining down on it.

Behold! Behold what the all-knowing and wise conversation pit gods hath wrought!

Sidebar? Is that a fountain or a fire pit in the middle? Discuss.

I decided to pull executive editor Joanna England into this conversation, because well, we need to talk about this.

Joanna: “Honey! Everyone is gone! It’s time to hose down the conversation pit. OK dear, I’ll get after it once I finish Windexing the funhouse bathroom.”

Oh, did we not mention the bathroom?

Me: “Fifty dollars says that fire pit has seen some sh–. And you can have a self-gyno exam in that bathroom.”

Joanna: “Don’t forget to clean the invisible dining table! Also, that’s a safe bet. I’ll pass.”

Joanna: “I love that there’s a separate, carpeted bench near a fireplace. Gotta nail down the furniture.”

Me: “Why are all the beds prison twin beds? Oh, wait. That’s because this place isn’t for sleeping, it’s for ‘sleeping’.”

And with that, we both agreed that this house was WTF-worthy.

Have any more questions we didn’t cover? Let us know in the comments. And stay tuned for next week’s follow up, and maybe get your tetanus shot, because if Internet tetanus is a thing, this house next week will give it to you.

Want to see more of this week’s house? Click here, because you know you do. Want to see more Wednesday WTF? Here ya go.

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Adlene Neely Dealey

Adlene has been a real estate writer for the better half of a decade, but only recently came to to write our Wednesday WTF column. Have a doozy of a listing not fit for public consumption? She wants to see it.

Reader Interactions


  1. mmCandy Evans says

    What’s that little square on the felt-covered (I think) built-in sofa next to the stairs? Also, I’m convinced ALL these conversation pits/sunken living rooms (my mother had one, wanted it, craved it, planned it when she built her dream home and in fact would have killed the architect had he not produced) are precursors to the Americans With Disabilities Act because everyone broke legs living in these homes!

  2. LonestarBabs says

    I think it’s a swingles pad trying to be nondescript on the outside but all “busy-ness” on the inside.

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