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Jul. 11th, 2013 10:37 pm
Furred impressions
Who knows, if they become neighbours, maybe it will be something we'll chuckle about down the road. For now, it's just a bit awkward. I'd meant to finish the first read-through of the transcript of my oral history interview back in April, but the cover letter reminded me that I had never watered the houseplants in the neighbours' apartment as promised, so I seized their keys and a watering can and trotted upstairs.
I was surprised to find the light on in the kitchen. No one answered my knock, so I went in to find ever light blazing. Burglar repellent? The soil in the hanging pots was rock hard, but spider plants are Gaea's gift to hopeless horticulturalists. Still, there were a lot of dead leaves, so I began plucking them. That's when the door opened. Four men walked in--two of them bearish and super cute. I was like, Damn, are all the potential buyers going to be homos fleeing north?
I apologised to the agent, who seemed not the least put out. "I thought they looked dry, so I put some water on them last week." Okay, so that's how it is that they're not half dead already. I answered a question about the windows (yes, they tilt inwards) and that ended with the couple introducing themselves. Turns out they were the same ones I'd seen before ("You were watering something the last time too") and this was a second visit.
As soon as it was seemly, I crept out and related the whole incident to Scott. Then I went to the garden and pulled some weeds. He soon joined me, having given our negligent neighbour another week to do anything with her plot before taking it over. Soon after, the prospectives came over and began chatting about the plants. (Turns out they love clematis.) One asked about what the reserves were for and Scooter mentioned the leak in the basement while my inner voice screamed Don't scare them away!
Who knows, they could turn out to be douchebags. What can you really tell from a five-minute meeting? But dayum. We already live below two douchebags and they aren't nearly as easy on the eyes.
I was surprised to find the light on in the kitchen. No one answered my knock, so I went in to find ever light blazing. Burglar repellent? The soil in the hanging pots was rock hard, but spider plants are Gaea's gift to hopeless horticulturalists. Still, there were a lot of dead leaves, so I began plucking them. That's when the door opened. Four men walked in--two of them bearish and super cute. I was like, Damn, are all the potential buyers going to be homos fleeing north?
I apologised to the agent, who seemed not the least put out. "I thought they looked dry, so I put some water on them last week." Okay, so that's how it is that they're not half dead already. I answered a question about the windows (yes, they tilt inwards) and that ended with the couple introducing themselves. Turns out they were the same ones I'd seen before ("You were watering something the last time too") and this was a second visit.
As soon as it was seemly, I crept out and related the whole incident to Scott. Then I went to the garden and pulled some weeds. He soon joined me, having given our negligent neighbour another week to do anything with her plot before taking it over. Soon after, the prospectives came over and began chatting about the plants. (Turns out they love clematis.) One asked about what the reserves were for and Scooter mentioned the leak in the basement while my inner voice screamed Don't scare them away!
Who knows, they could turn out to be douchebags. What can you really tell from a five-minute meeting? But dayum. We already live below two douchebags and they aren't nearly as easy on the eyes.