-My husband and I are separating.
And right there a little sadness reached his eyes.
-I want something close to the children's school, so they can walk. And close enough to the house as well.
-So you're looking for a new beginning? Everyone wants a new beginning these days…
-It's more like a continuation you know. I'm not starting over, I'm carrying on.
-So many people now… So many…
-The times have changed, society's values have changed. We've given the best to our children, and will continue to do so. Our family hasn't died, it's evolving.
He's about seventy. Could barely get out of his car without me helping him. He's proud. He build this house by himself twenty five years ago. He really likes the place. Looks out the window with a smile on his face as he describes how the trees in the park look in the summer from here.
-It really looks like it was built a hundred years ago. You did a wonderful job.
-My son helped me. We did everything in accordance with the city's requirements. It had to fit in the historic district to a t.
And still pride upon his face at the mention of his son, how they chose the roofing, how they negotiated with the suppliers.
Unfortunately, it's a fucking dump. The hall reeks of cat piss. The whole apartment is filthy. The floors in the bedrooms are made of vinyl tiles, and at some places not even level. The cupboards in the kitchen are cheaper than what they sell at WalMart's. So cheap, the shelves are drooping and stained… caked. The windowsills are cracked and you can feel the wind through them. It's been empty for three months. No wonder. He's asking at least 150$ too much a month.
I want to tell him:
-Change the flooring and the cupboards, fix the windows, clean this place up and I'll take it.
But I tell him:
-I'll call you back.
I smile, and I leave.
A young couple was waiting their turn outside. I let them in and got in my car. It's the apartment I wanted. I'm not disappointed though. I'm rather proud of myself. It was so real. I have another visit scheduled tomorrow… The hunt is on.
Which hunt?
lots of prays… it’s open season.
*runs like joseph*
don’t bother, you’re already in the crosshairs. (besides, I’m not sure who’s the bad influence here… ;))
What bad influence.
Wait a sec!
So… you’re saying…
…
*RUNS EVEN FASTER!*
wait, wait! you forgot your boxer shorts! ( I preffer briefs anyway)
Uh?
Did I wear some?
ripped’em off quite fast if I recall. damn jet lag.
I must have fallen asleep damn fast. As you said… “Damn jetlag”
that’s ok Franky. B.o.b. took care of me.
Have always known I were innocent, but no one would have believed me if I had immediately said so.
That was a rather sad tale….but then those comments cracked me up.
Chris (who is firmly entrenched in a pair of boxer-briefs)
*points once more at his innocence*
And firmly refuses to disclose whether briefs/boxers/mixed/whatever right atm.