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Monday, May 27, 2013

8 Balls and the House on Dana Part 10


Kim and I looked at so many apartments that even the cockroaches wouldn’t have walked into. Filthy, dirty, small and in need of a serious bleaching, was what we saw apartment after apartment. 

That was once we got to meet the Landlords.

Landlords would greet us on the sidewalk 20-30 minutes late, looking like it was an inconvenience just to put their pants on. Old drunken, bloated faces covered in stubble wearing white muscle tees yellowed in the armpits. The smell of chicken soup clung to them.

Kim pinched her nose during a conversation with one of these “Landlords” as we were being given the walk through. Kim pointing to various light fixtures with exposed wiring would ask “Thoooo, yo neeth da deposit, and firth mounth, to mooth ib?” The landlord seemed to have no problem understanding what Kim was asking and rubbed his hands together at the thought of being able to afford another bottle of Jameson.

One apartment we saw was in the only still standing building next to a block of burned out row houses. Two brown rats happily played and chased each other across our feet as we walked up the sidewalk. I glance up at the building to see angry faces peeking out at us from behind slightly parted curtains on the first floor. An old woman looking down on us from another window is seen shaking her head as if to say, “Well, there goes the neighborhood.”

We continued the search the next day.

Kim and I quickly found out that if I called a place and a male would answer, if the apartment was no longer available I would thank them and have Kim call right back. Several times when they heard a female voice calling they would tell Kim “The apartment is available!” Imagine their faces when she showed up and that a male was with her. I imagined a lot of landlords just putting down their killing hammer when they saw me. I started to feel scared for anyone who might have to go through this search without someone by his or her side. 

I saw Texas Chain Saw Massacre. I know what happens when you pick up a Hippie and he wipes the blood from his hand on your van. A lot of people didn’t see it and can’t spot the warnings.

We finally scored a meeting with the landlord of the apartment on Third Street at 3pm. Kim and I asked everyone where Third Street was, after the fiftieth “I dun know” someone sent us on our way.

It was a long walk to Third Street, nothing looked familiar, now one was outside and every now and then, we would see curtains move slightly in a window as if someone was just looking out at us. Finally we turn on third and find the address. We are now standing in front of the sweetest little yellow house. On one side of the house, a slight distance away is another house, on the other is a Snow Blower and Lawn Mower shop. Actually, it’s a big empty lot with a tiny house and a little dirt path leading to their front door. On the lawn are brand new Snow Blowers and Lawn Mowers for sale.

Right at 3pm a large expensive looking car slowed to a stop in front of the house. The driver door opened and out stepped a young version of Arnold Palmer, or what I thought Arnold Palmer should look like. The shock of blond hair, tanned skin, yellow golf shirt with the top button teasingly open, blue sports coat and tan pants. The shine on the shoe was blinding and his glided towards us, hand outstretched.

To be continued……..

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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