Vanity Fair
Arggh! I know my landlord’s frustrated by me. Why wouldn’t he be? I keep stalking him, calling him money-grubbing, phone him at the most inopportune times, seem to be flirting with him, am demanding (altho’ truth be known he be THE laziest landlord I know) and keep bouncing checks left and right.
Okay, admittedly, he’s a bit of an ass and looks down upon me and thinks that I’m this annoying girl (but, hey, I can fantasize can’t I? Well, can’t I?).
Alright, going back to the main topic, I’ll admit it. My landlord is cute (and seemingly single). I know he probably isn’t right for me (and I don’t want to be in a relationship with him – I’m merely trying to amuse myself) although it is bemusing to consider he (and his daughter) are much better dressed now than when I first met them (and he’s a bit more confident). However, I must fully admit that it’s my rent dollars in action which helped him in becoming that. He’s mutated into less of a wuss (and refers to his brother’s money as his considering he initially saw himself as the lackey and now he seems himself as a bit of a co-owner).
His most recent note to me. The fucker still hadn’t put the fucking block of wood in my door when I returned from NC (after swearing to God he would). I think he must have a spy here (like my former landlord did) – for 4 hours after I had arrived (and was sleeping soundly in my bedroom) I heard feet on my front steps and thought it was either a) Sterling or b) someone looking for the wrong apartment and figured that if c) they wanted to speak to me they’d d) knock on the window or buzz the door like they normally did. I waited a bit (but as I was tired was a) grateful I heard nothing and b) thought it must’ve been my imagination. But when I woke up that evening (around 5) to find the note and block outside my door I a) realized I wasn’t and b) thought the fucker was fucking lucky he had come by as I would’ve made his life a living hell once I got up.
So why do I keep writing about Bob the Builder (a show at this time)? Um, probably boredom.
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