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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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They can take their 3-cornered hat and shove it up their lobster tail if you know what I mean

We spent Saturday driving and walking around New Haven, taking down For Rent numbers, calling and making appointments.

We took Sunday off and trained into Manhattan to hang out with friends and enjoy a tiny vacation from our stressors.

Monday we toured 5 apartments, and saw one that we really liked. I was sad to have missed my favorite yoga class but seeing that one great apartment made it ok. 16oo sq/ft of loft space with western exposure and ancient, beautifully patina’d floors.

Tuesday Terence called Nancy the Realtor, and set up a time to hand over applications, and a deposit for the apartment we really liked. I picked Terence up at 5, we raced to meet Nancy at the building and when we arrived, she said, “it’s already rented. We took a check from someone else earlier today.”

WTF?

We felt as if someone had pulled the rug out from under us. How could she accept a check from someone else when she knew she’d made an appointment with us to lock-up the apartment? How did this happen? How can someone have such shady business practices? Why would she even show the apartment knowing she had an appointment with us?

When she told us the apartment was already rented, I’m sure we were the picture of crestfallen. Nancy mentioned the other vacant apartment in the building (that we’d seen and not liked as much) and added, “How can I make everyone happy? I want to make sure everyone’s happy.”

Terence: “Well that’s impossible now. We wanted the other one.”

He rolled up our applications and said, “I guess these are going in the shredder” and we both left.

Of course the phone rang on the drive home.

Me: “I am most certainly not answering that.” I know myself. I would have ripped up one side of her, and down the other.

So Terence answered, and naturally it was Nancy, feeling remorse maybe? (I can’t imagine a heart that black feeling anything at all, but…) She said she felt terribly about the situation to which Terence countered, “I’m sure you don’t feel half as horribly as we do.” She said she would talk to the person who’d submitted a check and see if they’d be amenable to moving into the other unit. Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen.

But really? Do we feel comfortable doing business with that woman? And with that landlord? Who’s to say they wouldn’t screw us over later down the line? They can’t be trusted, that much has been established. The thing about that apartment is that it was cool enough to make living here more than tolerable. “We could have been actually happy in that place. Rather than just biding our time til my 1 yr commitment is up,” said Terence.

Thank god we didn’t cancel any of our other apartment viewing appointments. We have one today at noon, and another at 6:30. We also have an appointment tomorrow, and I am crossing my fingers that something tolerable will surface. At this point, we have to take whatever comes along that is decent and won’t break the bank.

I’ve moved through all 5 stages of grief, but Terence, predictably, is comfortably ensconced in stage 5: anger. My efforts to cheer him up have been futile.

And to think I missed yoga yesterday for that! I could have been practicing instead of saying, “Hey, let’s not go home right away. Let’s stop off at the sporting goods store. I’d like to look at some firearms.”

Ugh. Those people on Colonial House think that life in New England in the 17th century was hard? Ha. It hasn’t changed much. It's still inhospitable.

9:15 a.m. - 2004-05-19

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