Motel stories

The oldish guy who installed two of my blinds today turned out to be a pretty decent dude. I was joking with Louise, in MSN, about him, before he showed up. He does tend to wear his shirts open to almost the belly (big belly) in what I imagine he imagines is a sexy style.

And he does stare at my chest all the time when he talks to me. I don't have much of a chest, they're not big hooters, ya know? But his eyes always dart down that way.

Anyway, in spite of all this, and despite my misgivings about actually inviting him into my living space to install blinds, he proved to be a complete gentleman with a sense of humour.

My nickname for him is Casanova. (Casanova with emphysema. He wheezes.)

He struggled with my blinds in relative silence while I hovered, hoping he wouldn't break them. Cuz then I would have to charge him for them. Finally, he let loose an expletive and immediately apologized, saying the blinds were des tabarnaks bt they wouldn't get the best of him!

I laughed.

He told me some stories. I had to prod him to get details. But I got the skinny on the poor little lady who lived here before me (who fell down and was found on the third day). It appears she smoked 4 packs of cigs per day.

No wonder the little spots the landlord missed with his paintbrush were so BROWN. Gah.

Anyway, it appears that two people have died in this place. Apartment 16 and Apartment 23. Remind me never to rent those. In one case, the deceased was found by the landlord 4 days after the fact.

GAH!

Anyway, I have to go see the setting sun now, so I'll be back tomorrow.