A short, stocky, white-haired man answered the door. He gave me the up-down (when someone looks you up and down–possibly undressing you with their eyes?). There was a hole in the floor of the hallway with a ladder. “The room is down here,” he crawled in first. I followed. It was small but doable. We went back upstairs and this is what happened.
“Anya has lived here for a year and a half. She’s an immigrant, not very friendly,” he said. I raised my eyebrow. He scurried away and grabbed his digital camera, after scrolling through a bunch of cat pics (weird) he arrived at a picture of a very unfriendly looking young woman.
“Totally a good person. She married to stay in this country. Then the guy disappeared, she was very upset because it was so expensive.” Why is he telling me this?
“The other girl I was going to rent to had two cats and I just couldn’t do that,” he went on. “She was very strange. She was like 5’2” and 80 pounds–it was really gross.” WTF?
“No, but you–” He gestured his hands like he was measuring something length-wise, then width-wise. Then he said, “You–you’re a good size!”
Um, WTF? I said I would think about it. Do you think I should live with this guy?
What would you do? Let us know in the comments!