It was a quiet Saturday and I was about to go outside. Suddenly Anthony came bustling up the sidewalk and in an urgent tone said to me, "Hey man, did you know the landlady is coming over?"
No, how was I supposed to know that? 5 minutes later, she was there. With her Realtor. and her son. and her sister. and her sister's son. and someone who stayed out in the car.
This lady is a black woman, which may or may not be why Anthony eagerly told her he's been listening to a lot of soul music. In any case, she wanted to look over the house and explore her options now that the market is turning around.
(Do 6 houses for sale on my street mean the market is turning around?)
Anthony started off by showing her my room and making a bad joke about how messy it was. Then they examined the kitchen and noticed the broken oven handle.
That happened when Anthony scooted (jerked) the oven out to catch a mouse. Of course, I took the implicit fall when he said: "oh i'm never in the kitchen, i've cooked, like, two meals since I moved in here. riiight."
Finally the axe fell on him. The landlady and her Realtor told Anthony he needs to pay the rent on time or they'll evict him. It was news to me he didn't pay. Quick to scheme, Anthony proposed they let him cut a six month rent check right now and give him a $200/mo. break for it. Our visitors smelled a rat. A smelly, smelly rat.
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