Home Sweet Home

So. Obviously the current residence is not ideal.

After the night we just had, my mother and I are perfectly content with spending as much time here as it takes to get out.

Lets talk about the night.

When it began, we were checking out what had been called an "apartment" with a kitchenette. We were told it was over another residence, so they wanted quiet tenants. Mom and I are quiet, so this sounded good to us.

IN REALITY

The man owns a house. When we go inside, there is a stair case and a door to the right. The door to the right is locked and leads to his family's portion. Upstairs is the "apartment".

There is no door cutting us off from them-just cutting them off from us.
The bed rooms make me long for my days living in a dorm at school. One twin bed, one futon.
The kitchenette is a microwave, a crock pot, a single electric burner, a sink, and a small fridge and freezer combo.
All of the furniture is plastic-lawn chairs.
One of the rooms lacks any lights.
In the mini living room area there are DVD's under the TV-this area gets used at present.

We go downstairs to look at paper work. A ridiculous amount of references are requested, her actively forgot that we were mother and daughter. We meet his wife.
Second wife.

I immediately concluded she was a Russian Mail Order Bride.
We are told she has a sixteen year old daughter.
I suspect the 'apartment' is her party pad. Again, they also travel a lot.
There are no locks between us and them. I couldn't say entirely why I was wary of him. Perhaps the mail order bride who can barely speak English.

After reaching the car, my mother and I know it is not a good match. We discuss this and head for the next cottage.

The cottage itself isn't bad. its small, but we could manage. I note the laundry machines aren't on location. A small kitchen. Its very small. We won't be having much company. But we're okay with the idea of it.

Then the realtor introduces us to the land lady.

After meeting this woman I returned to my current residence and hugged the land lady who has sent me to the ER twice with anxiety attacks because I have new appreciation.

In the first five minutes she was sure my mother and I couldn't afford her property-but she wouldn't just send us on our way. The realtor corrects her.

I am uncomfortable already.
She proceeds to show her colors as elitist. ("No drama. No cop cars or ambulances.")
Sexist. ("There will always be a man around for you two ladies, regardless of what for, say if you need to open a jar").
A bigot. ("You two have to rent together, and no one else. So if your prince comes by tomorrow and sweeps you off your feet"-said to me. I attempt to speak. Its clear that I am bisexual does not matter and would confuse her).
A control freak. ("You would have to manage the lawn, if there's any weeds we will have a talk, and the rose bush beside the door is your responsibility. You'll have to dust it for aphids.")

Funny thing. The more uncomfortable I was with it, the more my poker face melted, the more certain it seemed she wanted us. She gave my mother and I two thumbs up, which the Realtor said was unusual.

I think she just didn't like the idea of being the one who got rejected rather then doing the rejecting.


Needless to say, my mother and I continue our search, but with a new appreciation for our current residence.