The Husband and I have been house-hunting, not to buy you understand no that would be a step too far from our current vagabond existence, rather we are looking for a room to rent in a shared flat in Edinburgh. However after two dismal abode viewings I fear we are doomed to live under bridges transporting all our worldly belongings in plastic packets for the rest of our married lives.
A ‘furnished, light and spacious attic conversion’ was in reality a mattress on the floor in a sea of cold cups of coffee and half smoked joints and the sort of space you would have been hard pressed to swing a dwarf. Flat two sounded rather more promising, a converted paper mill overlooking the Water of Leith.
Unfortunately the minute we were greeted by ‘Saul’ with his floppy hair and murderer blue eyes and he uttered the words, “take a seat and let me tell you about myself” I knew we were doomed. Saul was recently divorced and newly returned from 3 months teaching English in Mexico, after which time he was, and I quote ‘fluent in Spanish’. He liked to use frequent air quotations in the manner of Dr. Evil and stare furtively at my chest every 5 seconds:
Saul: [To the Husband and I] I’m very fussy about who I have in the house. [Breast glance in my direction]. I don’t want wild parties, but I’m not a square, we do have the odd [air quotation] “cervesa” - that’s beer in Spanish [Breast glance].
The Husband: [Said with straight face] I can’t remember the last time I had a drink…
Saul: You don’t have a piece of paper that says you will never drink again do you? Are you following the 12 steps?
The Husband: No. But I would say my drinking days are behind me. (In reality only two days behind, but who is counting?)
Saul: Good, now what do you do? [Said to Husband but with passing gaze at my mammaries.]
The Husband: I’m a fisherman and diver. I dive for shellfish, scallops and razor clams.
Saul: Ooh, you don’t dive deep do you? [Double entendre followed by quick breast appraisal].
The Husband: No, we only dive to about 15metres if you go too deep that’s when problems happen.
Saul: Metaphorically speaking. [air quotation].
[Husband and I exchange look of bewilderment.]
Saul: Now where do you come from? [Question aimed in direction of my breasts.]
Me: [Feeling I should answer on behalf of my mammaries] Born and bred in South Africa.
Saul: Well that’s certainly eclectic isn’t it?
Me: Yeees, I suppose you could say that.
Saul: Now what I’m looking to do here is foster a culture of community. I don’t want people who stay in their rooms swotting at their books all day. No I want people to enjoy the common area or “lounge” [air quotation]. As a father of three girls I want to embrace the community. [Breast glance].
Needless to say the Husband and I removed my ample breasts from Saul’s prying eyes and legged it back to the safety of the non-freaky people.
Saul eager to embrace us to his breast sent and email containing more than an acceptable amount of ellipses…
[Grannypants]...was good to meet you and [The Husband] this afternoon...
I am attaching a copy of the license agreement for your perusal......
Bear in mind there is a deposit of £200 at the start of the lease - returnable at the end of the lease period...
you would certainly be very welcome...!!
I look forward to hearing from you…
After reviewing the House Rules, which included the clause that no visitors were permitted unless permission had been granted no later than 12 hours previously, we decided that boob-gazing Saul was not for us:
Dear Saul...
After careful consideration we have decided that...we would rather live under a bridge...
Many Thanks...
Grannypants…
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