We are 15 minutes late for our appointment. A half dozen u-turns later, we find finally 3541 Mission Blvd. Three bedroom, 2.5 bath, $1600. Perfect for us.
3:15 p.m. Knock. No answer.
3:30 p.m. I am starting to dance. If the landlady does not show us this house soon, I am going to pee myself.
3:45 p.m. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. No answer.
Let us in PLEASE! I plead and I jokingly grab the front door. It opens. Shit. But, I cannot go in, that would be bad. We wait for the landlady.
3:57 p.m. I really need to go. But, you can't just... well... I'm dying. I apologize to my friends and dash in.
Door one: Closet.
Door two: Bedroom. Not empty yet. A couple half packed boxes and scattered books, a sweatshirt, and a 10 speed.
Door three: Thank you!
I sit and pee. And pee and pee. I try to hurry because I do not want the landlady to find me inside. Reach for... shit, no toilet paper. Bang open a couple cabinets until I find a new roll. Finally get it on the holder. Wash hands. Close door.
Shit, run back in and flush. Rush back outside.
4:07 p.m. I am feeling much more relaxed.
4:10 p.m. Maybe we should just go, I shrug to my friends. We either missed her or the landlady is not showing. I pull out my planner for emphasis. Tuesday, right? The third, right? 3:15 pm? Okay. 3-4-5-1 Mission Blvd?
Oh.