Black As My Soul: Rental Agent

January 14, 2005

Rental Agent

She has a son who is about 7 years younger than me. She mentions this because he is moving out. She will be alone, she says.

Last night when I went in to fill out paperwork, she was about to go outside for a smoke. I told her to feel free. I know what it feels like to need something.

It's damned cold. It was about three below then. She stood with the door open a few inches. Most of her smoke went outside. She only took about three or four drags. Just enough, I suppose, and maybe one more. Her whole body was actually outside the door for a moment while she crushed the butt—really half a cig—in the outdoor ashtray.

Of all the apartment complexes I've rented from (OK, four), this one was the most concerned that I was aware of what was on the rental agreement. She read from each point where I needed to initial. She paused often to suck the candy in her mouth.

Does she still get nervous when she does this? Is she afraid I'll be offended by cigarettes on her breath?

She mentions that she feels like she lives at the complex, although her home is elsewhere.

This was just preliminary stuff I guess, that we won't have to do tonight when I come in with the money order. Which reminds me. I need to pick up a money order.

Her voice betrays that she's from the eastern USA. New Jersey. I don't ask about her background even though she has a lot of trouble with my first name. Everyone does. She asked if she could call me Joe or if I had nicknames. I didn't let her get away with it. I told her what I tell every one. My friends all have nicknames for me. When you know me well enough to come up with a nickname, it will stick.

Her hair is orange. Because she doesn't want it to be grey. Her eyes are not hazel and not blue. I looked at them trying to appear interested in the lease details. When I look into a stranger's eyes, it's because I'm telling myself that's what they need from me to feel like I'm hearing them. I'm not hearing them, I'm concentrating on holding the gaze. You get my attention or my gaze. It takes something pretty special to get both. They operate independently.

So I have to deal with this woman again tonight. She's giving me some shower curtains—leaving them really—because the apartment had been previously set up as a model. Not that it's particularly wonderful, it's inexpensive for the city I live in and for the larger metropolitan area.

I just have this feeling.

After I sign the lease tonight, she's not going to be finished with me.

[+] Posted by Sinner, who was transgressing at the time (January 14, 2005 3:45 PM) by revealing evil. [+]