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Hogwarts, Thanksgiving, and The Tale of The Apartment That Wasn't
Thanksgiving was, I'm pleased to report, very lovely. I had a nice time with my friends, I ate both mashed potatoes AND smothered cheese fries with bacon-y bits, and stuffed myself so completely that I'm still full 16 hours later. In short, a win all the way 'round.
And now, an amusing tale, about a girl in Japan, an apartment in New York City, and an apartment owner in London.
My brother and I, while we get along quite well these days, are not in close touch. Thus, it was with some surprise that, on Monday, Skype began to ring to say I had a phone call which, it boldly declared, was from Australia.
Utterly puzzled, I've still not noted Skype to get solicitations or any other bogus calls, so I answered it. "Konnichiwa!" I was greeted, "are you tired of paying too much for your long distance calls?"
It took me a full 2 minutes to figure out that it was my brother - between the joke introduction, the Australian ID, and the fact that he didn't actually name himself (though it was clear it was someone I knew almost immediately) I just hedged around until I could tell who it was. He, meanwhile, had called for two reasons. The first was related to Christmas, and bears discussing some other time. The second, though, was that, upon hearing that I was moving to NYC, he had decided to satisfy his curiosity and take a look at what I had to look forward to in the way of apartment hunting. He had wandered over to apartments.com, and there he had found the utterly unbelievable.
An apartment on Amsterdam and 80th street (a block and a half from the Museum of Natural History, 2 blocks from Zabars and H&H Bagels, 2 blocks from a subway station, 2 blocks from a gym, 8 blocks from my moms apartment, 4 blocks from Barnes and Noble, 4 blocks from Central Park, 5 blocks from Riverside Park, In a neighborhood that I grew up in - 4 blocks from my elementary school - and that I know well enough to rattle off the above without thinking about; note that 20 blocks = 1 mile). Said apartment was 1 bedroom, 800 square feet. Pets were allowed. It included a garage, a doorman, a washer, a dryer, air conditioning, a dishwasher. In short, everything that I could possibly want except for a fitness center. And the kicker? It was $1,800 a month.
This is the sort of deal that only a idiot or a lunatic wouldn't pursue, even with the inconvenience of my being in Japan and the apartment being in New York. It is, as anyone familiar with housing in NYC knows, a deal that is quite simply too good to be true. There would be difficulties, but for such an amazing find they could be overcome. It was well worth the trouble. I called my mom, asked her if she'd be willing to take a look at the place if I could arrange a viewing. If she thought it looked okay, I have a fax number, I figured I'd have the lease faxed, look it over, make sure everything was in order, and I could return it, signed, the same way - though I'd have to go to Kinkos to print it and fax it. No big deal, there's a Kinkos across from Ueno Station. Mom agreed, sounding thrilled at the prospect, and I wrote to the apartment lister, "Annes."
She replied to me less than 24 hours later. If the price and deal hadn't made me nervous, the e-mail I received in reply did. I had written a brief note explaining who I was, my interest, and the difficulties we faced, and would she please let me know about viewing the apartment. She replied:
"Thank you for your interest. I have available the apartment located at 186 West 80th, New York, NY 10024 , with 1 bedroom and 1 bathroom, square ft. 800, because I move with my job in United Kingdom, London and I need money to pay the rent here, that is the reason I want to rent at this price and to find a good person for my apartment. This is the reason that I want to rent it. I can rent you the apt for max. 5 years because I have a contract here for this period. I `m the owner of the apt and its like in the PICS. The rent for 1 month is $1,800.00 including all utilities (water, electricity, Internet, cable, parking, air conditioning, fireplace, dishwasher, garbage disposal, microwave, refrigerator). You can move in the apt in the same day when you receive the keys. The only problem is that I`m the only person who have the keys but I hope that we will find a compromise.
Thank you for your interest and wait news from you,
Best Regards, "
That was it. No name. Poor grammar. She wants a good person, which is all well and nice, but asks no way of confirming if I'm a good person. The rent - already ludicrously low - includes the internet and the cable. And, delightfully, the hint that she has brought the only existing key with her to London. Just splendid. My suspicions were heartily aroused. I read the note over several times, and by the last I was convinced it was a con. Still, a con like this can't possibly succeed unless one falls for it. She had no information about me other than my name, my e-mail address, and my Skype phone number. So I wrote her back. It was still an amazing deal, and I was determined not to let it slip through my fingers if there was even a chance that it was the real thing. I had a bunch of questions, and I figured that these questions, if answered, would go a long way towards alleviating my concerns.
I told her more about myself, I explained when I'd be back in NY, and about the fax number idea. I then asked to confirm if dogs were allowed, if there was a deposit, how long the lease would be for, whether I'd be allowed to paint, etc., how payment of rent would be handled, whether there was a maintenance guy in the building, and why on earth the Landlord didn't have her key. I then explained that I'd be utterly unwilling to pay for anything without having seen the apartment, and I would happily pay for a copy of the key to be sent to me so that the apartment could be seen. I refrained from adding that trust was the thing, and that if I was to trust her with my rent payment, it seemed little enough for her to trust me with a copy of a key. I was, all in all, very nice, very forgiving, and gave the appearance of being trusting.
Her reply, however, made little difference. She ignored all of my questions, just about, except to say that there were no fees other than the rent. She'd want it wired to her. She then suggested a shipping company (TNT) that would handle everything in a way that would be "safe" - they'd send the key very quickly, and I could view the apartment, and then they'd retrieve the key to return to her. It didn't really help with my worries - she STILL hadn't given me her name - but it was time for outside help.
I called my brother, and had a long talk with him and his wife. I sent them both e-mails and asked what they thought. They agreed about the bad grammar - and with my assessment that the writer probably didn't speak English as a first language. They thought things were a little weird, that the woman (we knew it was a woman, by the by, because the name "Annes" was supplied by the apartments.com listing) was fairly ditzy. When I mentioned my suspicions that it was all a con, based on the various weird things I'd seen, though, B. thought I was being quite ridiculous. The woman was surely just really clueless. The apartment was cheap because she didn't understand it's value. She was enough of a flake that she had left for her job without getting everything in order. That sort of thing. And, presented that way, I could kind of see it. Each individual thing that had worried me could be explained, and by the time we reached the end of the conversation, I was prepared to agree with the assessment that I had been quite silly and had over reacted. Really, things weren't all THAT suspicious.
So I wrote her back. I re-asked the questions she hadn't answered, pointing out that if she couldn't confirm that dogs were okay there was no point in sending a key. I asked her point blank for her name. That sort of thing.
The reply came this morning. It confirmed the dog was okay, answered about half my questions while ignoring the others (in particular the one about the landlord having her key!) and explained what was to happen next, if I agreed. She would leave the key, and I would be informed of it. Then I'd wire the first months rent, and the key would be sent. I'd have two days to view the apartment and return the key; if I returned the key, I'd get my money back, and if I didn't, I had the apartment! Just like that. And no name.
With my new good humor about the whole thing, I thought it sounded kind of plausible. I'd been thinking about it, and still had plenty of things I was worried about. Why wouldn't she give her name? How on earth was it that I was the ONLY PERSON asking questions about this apartment? Why didn't she want my references? Or my proof of income? Or any other assurances? Still, B. thought I'd been silly, and so I went ahead and started getting set. I forwarded it to my mom with some explanatory notes; and I forwarded it to B. to get his opinion and make sure he thought it was legit.
Well, within minutes I got a phone call. Having read this latest letter, B. and K. were QUITE convinced it was a con - where the day before they had assured me that there was nothing yet to worry about. We talked it over, and I realized that I had been, once again, just as silly. What company on the planet would handle payment the way she described? So I went over to TNT's webpage, and read through the information there, and I could find no indication whatsoever that they provided the service she suggested. With a sigh, after the talk, I began to pen another note. This note explained that I was, in truth, very suspicious of her, and that I wouldn't do ANYTHING more until I knew her name and she had given ME references so I could confirm her identity, and that under NO CIRCUMSTANCES would I forward the entire first months rent in exchange for a key of dubious usefulness, though I'd be willing to do a small deposit.
I read over this e-mail once, and then again. And I thought about all of the things that had worried me, and how it was inconceivable that I was the only person interested in such a good deal, and why hadn't she mentioned a single other person? And what kind of person leaves the US without arranging for the disposition of their apartment? And how is it possible that such a great location with such great amenities could be so cheap? And every other piece of it. It was, after all, a deal that was too good to be true.
I deleted the e-mail I had written, and I wrote her instead,
"I've been thinking about this entire exchange we've had a fair amount. There are things about it that have made me nervous from the start. However, I'm an honest person and I like to give others the benefit of the doubt. Adding in this latest contact, though - you still haven't given me your name even though you propose to lease me an apartment, I can find no sign that TNT offers the services you suggest, and you're asking me for the full first months rent in exchange for a key - I just can't move forward. All of the previous things could be chalked up to inexperience or incompetence on your part. However, all of it combined is too much for my credulity. If, somehow, with all of this you are an honest person, you've got a lot to learn about renting. If you're dishonest, well, you're not very convincing.
I'll simply end by signing off as you have done,
Thank you for your interest."
So perhaps I'm jumping the gun. Perhaps I should wait until tomorrow, and whatever reply it brings, to relate the tale of the apartment that wasn't, but in truth - as K. pointed out - if I'm dealing with someone so incompetent that this is all for real, would I really want such a person as my landlord?? And I answer, quite simply, not a chance.
I hope you have enjoyed my tale; I've found it all fascinating, with its ups and downs, and have resolved quite firmly that all future househunting will be reserved for my return.
I didn't really feel like writing today, but I pushed through, and when I noticed what page I was on I even went a fair amount over, with the result that the story is now EXACTLY 100 pages, and just over 65,000 words. I've added 34,000 words to it since the 2nd of November, and established firmly that I should have joined NaNoWriMo, since I've written 47k already. (The reason I didn't join NaNo is simple, actually: even though I thought I might write 50k this month, the purpose of NaNo is to start something NEW and just let it flow out all creative energy and stuff. Since that wasn't what I was doing, I felt that my work, while technically adequate to the technical GOAL, wasn't really in fitting with the SPIRIT, and so I refrained.)
I woke up Saturday morning in the highest of spirits. Even the fact that the last of my money would go to buying things for my parents could not bring me down. (Lest I seem a poor daughter, I should perhaps note that I had already purchased Christmas gifts for my parents over the previous summer, and my parents were certainly aware of this since those gifts were in a box in my room at home.) I don’t believe I had ever before in my life spent so much of my time in the morning being concerned about my appearance. Though Marcus and I had passed in the hallways and had snatched a few minutes together here and there, it had been so long since we spent any substantial time together that I found I very much wanted him to think me attractive when he saw me. Oh, the things we do for a gentleman! I was quite ashamed of myself, for first I had mooned and sighed over a man, and now I was concerning myself overmuch with my appearance for a man. “Let he who is without sin,” as they say. Taking up the wrapped package that contained the revolver in its case, I headed to meet my beaux, accepting that I had taken so long at my toilette that there was simply no time for breakfast.
We met at the front entrance, where all of the students were assembling. Kate was tentatively following in my footsteps – I wondered if this was normal behavior for a cat – and before I could even say allow, Boggle ran from Marcus’ pocket, jumped on to me energetically and cheerfully, and then launched himself at my cat, and the two began to play quite happily. Marcus and I exchanged startled looks and then laughed. “Well, they seem to get along well,” he commented, with a look at me that seemed to impart some extra meaning to what he said. I simply smiled back. “Shall we?” he asked, offering me his hand. I took it happily, and – our frolicking pets trailing behind us – we started the walk to the village at a pleasant stroll.
It was a chilly day, and I was glad that the outfit I had put together for myself included a fur-lined half-cloak and a muff. Of course, the muff was only in partial use, for one of my hands was held, perfectly snugly, in Marcus’, but it did well to keep my other hand from the cold. The sky was a lovely shade of crystalline blue, pale, and tatters thin of cloud seemed to scurry across it, stretched out to streaks by whatever forces made them move at such speeds – perhaps the same winds that stirred my cloak and caused my skirts to catch about my legs.
In the antics of our pets, I had not been able to observe Marcus taking note of my outfit, and the wind was quite ruining the effort I had put in to ordering my hair, but it didn’t worry me. Marcus himself looked superb, in a very proper coat and pants and a thick lined robe over it – I’d not have been able to see what he wore beneath the robe if not for the wind. Indeed, as we walked it seemed to grow steadily colder, to the point that soon Kate and Boggle gave up on playing and sought shelter, Boggle in Marcus’ coat pocket and Kate by finding her way under my skirts. With her underfoot and the tangle the wind caused, it’s a miracle I didn’t trip, but we were moving slowly enough, and the cat was savvy enough, that we managed it all alright.
The whole time, of course, we talked, though mostly of nothing. Indeed, the entire morning – the walk, our time in Hogsmeade, all that sort of thing – were spent in idle chit chat. We discussed the events of the preceding month, all the different things we were each busy with, that sort of thing. I related to him an account not dissimilar from that I gave above, with my new friends ships, my different duties, my concerns about Galatea, that sort of thing. I hid nothing save the contents of my mother’s note. He did ask, to my surprise, if I had heard from my parents again, and seemed disappointed when I said no, and when I commented that I didn’t expect any other communication before the holiday he seemed sad.
For his part, Marcus talked of similar things. He was as busy as I, though in different areas. I won’t go in to the ways in which it was largely the same; the only significant difference was in the area of WAP training.
The astute reader may observe that I did not discuss GAB training in the account I gave above. This was because, with the extra duties that I faced before the holidays, and with the Lunari’s objections as well – though I don’t know on what grounds – it had been decided that we would commence training in January when school recess ended. WAP, however, had continued without. I didn’t press Marcus for information, though I was very curious about the missions that Professor Patronius had mentioned that I knew nothing about, but Marcus provided the information freely, and so I learned a great deal more about the state of things in the continent.
At that point, the WAP boys had gone to the mainland a total of 7 times. The first I knew of, but the others were new to me. Four of them had concerned rescuing other wizards from capture, and these he told me in self-deprecating terms from which I was still entirely able to infer that he had been brave, noble, and self-sacrificing. All had been successfully completed, and the wizards freed, and though at one time or another all of the WAP boys had been injured, Mistress Alfred, the nurse, had been more than able to patch them up. The other two missions, on the other hand, had been more like the first. Powerful wizards from Germany or her allies had gotten themselves a strong hold, and muggles were quite incapable of piercing these strong holds. As such, groups of wizards – of which in both instances WAP was only one – had gone and assaulted the strongholds (often castles) and defeated the wizard with in. At least, that was what was supposed to happen. One of those missions had been a success, but the other had not been, and the wizard in question, by the name of Adolphus Gramsach, still held strong. They were planning a second mission to attack him.
He also told me, very solemnly, that I should stay away from Palucid Nox. Apparently, in the castle that had fallen, they found many signs of Nox’ handiwork, automata that bore his maker’s mark, and messages signed with his name. There was no longer any doubt that Nox was heavily involved in our opposition, and, furthermore, it was clear that he was a very important, high-ranking member. This begged the question of why, then, he remained at Hogwarts. We had many suppositions, all of them unlikely, but we at least could be curtain that he was up to no good. I wondered if, perhaps, it had something to do with the mirror that the WAP boys had retrieved – with, I realized, the help the all of the GAB girls but myself – but Marcus didn’t know; he’d not heard a thing about the mirror since it had been retrieved, though he was quite certain it was still in Professor Patronius’ possession, since he had seen it in his office.
I was not unhappy to talk of happier things after such talk. The more we spoke of the dangers of what the Wizard Armed Patrol did, the more uneasy I felt. What if something happened to Marcus? Whatever would I do? It was to my credit that, my confession made the previous month, there was no thought in my mind save my worry for his person, and my thoughts of how very much I would miss him. I resolved that if there was any way I could help him, were he in danger, I would so. I was so very proud of his bravery, and so afraid that he might go one time and never return!
The topic of our Christmas gifts came up, and we agreed to exchange them at the Hogshead when we went for lunch. Noting my burden, he offered to carry it for me, but I refused, pointing out that soon enough it would be his and he’d have to carry it himself. We talked of the coming holidays, and of our interests (though I continued to insist that I was, in truth, not very interesting at all!) and of nothing serious; we had both, I realized, felt the effect of talking about the war. And in these improved spirits we wandered all about the village, admiring the animals at the familiar’ shop, making the purchases for my mother, confirming that we were both far to grown up to buy candy even as we both selected our favorites for purchase – though Marcus ended up buying me mine, since I had no money - and generally having a nice time of it. The best moment for me was surely when we entered Zonko’s Joke shop. Upon seeing me, the owner let out an exclamation of my name in the warmest tones, and informed me that he had sold all of the potions I had sent him, and he had been most remiss in not sending me the proceeds, and if I would hold out my hand please. I did so, and he placed in my hand 5 galleons. I was quite astonished, and thanked him profusely, and he declared that the pleasure was all his, and would I please provide him with the potions on a list he would have prepared momentarily. I left with my pocket jingling with coin and a list of no less than 20 potions he would purchase as soon as I could make them. I resolved to buy our lunch, to repay the candy that Marcus had bought me.
And now, an amusing tale, about a girl in Japan, an apartment in New York City, and an apartment owner in London.
My brother and I, while we get along quite well these days, are not in close touch. Thus, it was with some surprise that, on Monday, Skype began to ring to say I had a phone call which, it boldly declared, was from Australia.
Utterly puzzled, I've still not noted Skype to get solicitations or any other bogus calls, so I answered it. "Konnichiwa!" I was greeted, "are you tired of paying too much for your long distance calls?"
It took me a full 2 minutes to figure out that it was my brother - between the joke introduction, the Australian ID, and the fact that he didn't actually name himself (though it was clear it was someone I knew almost immediately) I just hedged around until I could tell who it was. He, meanwhile, had called for two reasons. The first was related to Christmas, and bears discussing some other time. The second, though, was that, upon hearing that I was moving to NYC, he had decided to satisfy his curiosity and take a look at what I had to look forward to in the way of apartment hunting. He had wandered over to apartments.com, and there he had found the utterly unbelievable.
An apartment on Amsterdam and 80th street (a block and a half from the Museum of Natural History, 2 blocks from Zabars and H&H Bagels, 2 blocks from a subway station, 2 blocks from a gym, 8 blocks from my moms apartment, 4 blocks from Barnes and Noble, 4 blocks from Central Park, 5 blocks from Riverside Park, In a neighborhood that I grew up in - 4 blocks from my elementary school - and that I know well enough to rattle off the above without thinking about; note that 20 blocks = 1 mile). Said apartment was 1 bedroom, 800 square feet. Pets were allowed. It included a garage, a doorman, a washer, a dryer, air conditioning, a dishwasher. In short, everything that I could possibly want except for a fitness center. And the kicker? It was $1,800 a month.
This is the sort of deal that only a idiot or a lunatic wouldn't pursue, even with the inconvenience of my being in Japan and the apartment being in New York. It is, as anyone familiar with housing in NYC knows, a deal that is quite simply too good to be true. There would be difficulties, but for such an amazing find they could be overcome. It was well worth the trouble. I called my mom, asked her if she'd be willing to take a look at the place if I could arrange a viewing. If she thought it looked okay, I have a fax number, I figured I'd have the lease faxed, look it over, make sure everything was in order, and I could return it, signed, the same way - though I'd have to go to Kinkos to print it and fax it. No big deal, there's a Kinkos across from Ueno Station. Mom agreed, sounding thrilled at the prospect, and I wrote to the apartment lister, "Annes."
She replied to me less than 24 hours later. If the price and deal hadn't made me nervous, the e-mail I received in reply did. I had written a brief note explaining who I was, my interest, and the difficulties we faced, and would she please let me know about viewing the apartment. She replied:
"Thank you for your interest. I have available the apartment located at 186 West 80th, New York, NY 10024 , with 1 bedroom and 1 bathroom, square ft. 800, because I move with my job in United Kingdom, London and I need money to pay the rent here, that is the reason I want to rent at this price and to find a good person for my apartment. This is the reason that I want to rent it. I can rent you the apt for max. 5 years because I have a contract here for this period. I `m the owner of the apt and its like in the PICS. The rent for 1 month is $1,800.00 including all utilities (water, electricity, Internet, cable, parking, air conditioning, fireplace, dishwasher, garbage disposal, microwave, refrigerator). You can move in the apt in the same day when you receive the keys. The only problem is that I`m the only person who have the keys but I hope that we will find a compromise.
Thank you for your interest and wait news from you,
Best Regards, "
That was it. No name. Poor grammar. She wants a good person, which is all well and nice, but asks no way of confirming if I'm a good person. The rent - already ludicrously low - includes the internet and the cable. And, delightfully, the hint that she has brought the only existing key with her to London. Just splendid. My suspicions were heartily aroused. I read the note over several times, and by the last I was convinced it was a con. Still, a con like this can't possibly succeed unless one falls for it. She had no information about me other than my name, my e-mail address, and my Skype phone number. So I wrote her back. It was still an amazing deal, and I was determined not to let it slip through my fingers if there was even a chance that it was the real thing. I had a bunch of questions, and I figured that these questions, if answered, would go a long way towards alleviating my concerns.
I told her more about myself, I explained when I'd be back in NY, and about the fax number idea. I then asked to confirm if dogs were allowed, if there was a deposit, how long the lease would be for, whether I'd be allowed to paint, etc., how payment of rent would be handled, whether there was a maintenance guy in the building, and why on earth the Landlord didn't have her key. I then explained that I'd be utterly unwilling to pay for anything without having seen the apartment, and I would happily pay for a copy of the key to be sent to me so that the apartment could be seen. I refrained from adding that trust was the thing, and that if I was to trust her with my rent payment, it seemed little enough for her to trust me with a copy of a key. I was, all in all, very nice, very forgiving, and gave the appearance of being trusting.
Her reply, however, made little difference. She ignored all of my questions, just about, except to say that there were no fees other than the rent. She'd want it wired to her. She then suggested a shipping company (TNT) that would handle everything in a way that would be "safe" - they'd send the key very quickly, and I could view the apartment, and then they'd retrieve the key to return to her. It didn't really help with my worries - she STILL hadn't given me her name - but it was time for outside help.
I called my brother, and had a long talk with him and his wife. I sent them both e-mails and asked what they thought. They agreed about the bad grammar - and with my assessment that the writer probably didn't speak English as a first language. They thought things were a little weird, that the woman (we knew it was a woman, by the by, because the name "Annes" was supplied by the apartments.com listing) was fairly ditzy. When I mentioned my suspicions that it was all a con, based on the various weird things I'd seen, though, B. thought I was being quite ridiculous. The woman was surely just really clueless. The apartment was cheap because she didn't understand it's value. She was enough of a flake that she had left for her job without getting everything in order. That sort of thing. And, presented that way, I could kind of see it. Each individual thing that had worried me could be explained, and by the time we reached the end of the conversation, I was prepared to agree with the assessment that I had been quite silly and had over reacted. Really, things weren't all THAT suspicious.
So I wrote her back. I re-asked the questions she hadn't answered, pointing out that if she couldn't confirm that dogs were okay there was no point in sending a key. I asked her point blank for her name. That sort of thing.
The reply came this morning. It confirmed the dog was okay, answered about half my questions while ignoring the others (in particular the one about the landlord having her key!) and explained what was to happen next, if I agreed. She would leave the key, and I would be informed of it. Then I'd wire the first months rent, and the key would be sent. I'd have two days to view the apartment and return the key; if I returned the key, I'd get my money back, and if I didn't, I had the apartment! Just like that. And no name.
With my new good humor about the whole thing, I thought it sounded kind of plausible. I'd been thinking about it, and still had plenty of things I was worried about. Why wouldn't she give her name? How on earth was it that I was the ONLY PERSON asking questions about this apartment? Why didn't she want my references? Or my proof of income? Or any other assurances? Still, B. thought I'd been silly, and so I went ahead and started getting set. I forwarded it to my mom with some explanatory notes; and I forwarded it to B. to get his opinion and make sure he thought it was legit.
Well, within minutes I got a phone call. Having read this latest letter, B. and K. were QUITE convinced it was a con - where the day before they had assured me that there was nothing yet to worry about. We talked it over, and I realized that I had been, once again, just as silly. What company on the planet would handle payment the way she described? So I went over to TNT's webpage, and read through the information there, and I could find no indication whatsoever that they provided the service she suggested. With a sigh, after the talk, I began to pen another note. This note explained that I was, in truth, very suspicious of her, and that I wouldn't do ANYTHING more until I knew her name and she had given ME references so I could confirm her identity, and that under NO CIRCUMSTANCES would I forward the entire first months rent in exchange for a key of dubious usefulness, though I'd be willing to do a small deposit.
I read over this e-mail once, and then again. And I thought about all of the things that had worried me, and how it was inconceivable that I was the only person interested in such a good deal, and why hadn't she mentioned a single other person? And what kind of person leaves the US without arranging for the disposition of their apartment? And how is it possible that such a great location with such great amenities could be so cheap? And every other piece of it. It was, after all, a deal that was too good to be true.
I deleted the e-mail I had written, and I wrote her instead,
"I've been thinking about this entire exchange we've had a fair amount. There are things about it that have made me nervous from the start. However, I'm an honest person and I like to give others the benefit of the doubt. Adding in this latest contact, though - you still haven't given me your name even though you propose to lease me an apartment, I can find no sign that TNT offers the services you suggest, and you're asking me for the full first months rent in exchange for a key - I just can't move forward. All of the previous things could be chalked up to inexperience or incompetence on your part. However, all of it combined is too much for my credulity. If, somehow, with all of this you are an honest person, you've got a lot to learn about renting. If you're dishonest, well, you're not very convincing.
I'll simply end by signing off as you have done,
Thank you for your interest."
So perhaps I'm jumping the gun. Perhaps I should wait until tomorrow, and whatever reply it brings, to relate the tale of the apartment that wasn't, but in truth - as K. pointed out - if I'm dealing with someone so incompetent that this is all for real, would I really want such a person as my landlord?? And I answer, quite simply, not a chance.
I hope you have enjoyed my tale; I've found it all fascinating, with its ups and downs, and have resolved quite firmly that all future househunting will be reserved for my return.
I didn't really feel like writing today, but I pushed through, and when I noticed what page I was on I even went a fair amount over, with the result that the story is now EXACTLY 100 pages, and just over 65,000 words. I've added 34,000 words to it since the 2nd of November, and established firmly that I should have joined NaNoWriMo, since I've written 47k already. (The reason I didn't join NaNo is simple, actually: even though I thought I might write 50k this month, the purpose of NaNo is to start something NEW and just let it flow out all creative energy and stuff. Since that wasn't what I was doing, I felt that my work, while technically adequate to the technical GOAL, wasn't really in fitting with the SPIRIT, and so I refrained.)
I woke up Saturday morning in the highest of spirits. Even the fact that the last of my money would go to buying things for my parents could not bring me down. (Lest I seem a poor daughter, I should perhaps note that I had already purchased Christmas gifts for my parents over the previous summer, and my parents were certainly aware of this since those gifts were in a box in my room at home.) I don’t believe I had ever before in my life spent so much of my time in the morning being concerned about my appearance. Though Marcus and I had passed in the hallways and had snatched a few minutes together here and there, it had been so long since we spent any substantial time together that I found I very much wanted him to think me attractive when he saw me. Oh, the things we do for a gentleman! I was quite ashamed of myself, for first I had mooned and sighed over a man, and now I was concerning myself overmuch with my appearance for a man. “Let he who is without sin,” as they say. Taking up the wrapped package that contained the revolver in its case, I headed to meet my beaux, accepting that I had taken so long at my toilette that there was simply no time for breakfast.
We met at the front entrance, where all of the students were assembling. Kate was tentatively following in my footsteps – I wondered if this was normal behavior for a cat – and before I could even say allow, Boggle ran from Marcus’ pocket, jumped on to me energetically and cheerfully, and then launched himself at my cat, and the two began to play quite happily. Marcus and I exchanged startled looks and then laughed. “Well, they seem to get along well,” he commented, with a look at me that seemed to impart some extra meaning to what he said. I simply smiled back. “Shall we?” he asked, offering me his hand. I took it happily, and – our frolicking pets trailing behind us – we started the walk to the village at a pleasant stroll.
It was a chilly day, and I was glad that the outfit I had put together for myself included a fur-lined half-cloak and a muff. Of course, the muff was only in partial use, for one of my hands was held, perfectly snugly, in Marcus’, but it did well to keep my other hand from the cold. The sky was a lovely shade of crystalline blue, pale, and tatters thin of cloud seemed to scurry across it, stretched out to streaks by whatever forces made them move at such speeds – perhaps the same winds that stirred my cloak and caused my skirts to catch about my legs.
In the antics of our pets, I had not been able to observe Marcus taking note of my outfit, and the wind was quite ruining the effort I had put in to ordering my hair, but it didn’t worry me. Marcus himself looked superb, in a very proper coat and pants and a thick lined robe over it – I’d not have been able to see what he wore beneath the robe if not for the wind. Indeed, as we walked it seemed to grow steadily colder, to the point that soon Kate and Boggle gave up on playing and sought shelter, Boggle in Marcus’ coat pocket and Kate by finding her way under my skirts. With her underfoot and the tangle the wind caused, it’s a miracle I didn’t trip, but we were moving slowly enough, and the cat was savvy enough, that we managed it all alright.
The whole time, of course, we talked, though mostly of nothing. Indeed, the entire morning – the walk, our time in Hogsmeade, all that sort of thing – were spent in idle chit chat. We discussed the events of the preceding month, all the different things we were each busy with, that sort of thing. I related to him an account not dissimilar from that I gave above, with my new friends ships, my different duties, my concerns about Galatea, that sort of thing. I hid nothing save the contents of my mother’s note. He did ask, to my surprise, if I had heard from my parents again, and seemed disappointed when I said no, and when I commented that I didn’t expect any other communication before the holiday he seemed sad.
For his part, Marcus talked of similar things. He was as busy as I, though in different areas. I won’t go in to the ways in which it was largely the same; the only significant difference was in the area of WAP training.
The astute reader may observe that I did not discuss GAB training in the account I gave above. This was because, with the extra duties that I faced before the holidays, and with the Lunari’s objections as well – though I don’t know on what grounds – it had been decided that we would commence training in January when school recess ended. WAP, however, had continued without. I didn’t press Marcus for information, though I was very curious about the missions that Professor Patronius had mentioned that I knew nothing about, but Marcus provided the information freely, and so I learned a great deal more about the state of things in the continent.
At that point, the WAP boys had gone to the mainland a total of 7 times. The first I knew of, but the others were new to me. Four of them had concerned rescuing other wizards from capture, and these he told me in self-deprecating terms from which I was still entirely able to infer that he had been brave, noble, and self-sacrificing. All had been successfully completed, and the wizards freed, and though at one time or another all of the WAP boys had been injured, Mistress Alfred, the nurse, had been more than able to patch them up. The other two missions, on the other hand, had been more like the first. Powerful wizards from Germany or her allies had gotten themselves a strong hold, and muggles were quite incapable of piercing these strong holds. As such, groups of wizards – of which in both instances WAP was only one – had gone and assaulted the strongholds (often castles) and defeated the wizard with in. At least, that was what was supposed to happen. One of those missions had been a success, but the other had not been, and the wizard in question, by the name of Adolphus Gramsach, still held strong. They were planning a second mission to attack him.
He also told me, very solemnly, that I should stay away from Palucid Nox. Apparently, in the castle that had fallen, they found many signs of Nox’ handiwork, automata that bore his maker’s mark, and messages signed with his name. There was no longer any doubt that Nox was heavily involved in our opposition, and, furthermore, it was clear that he was a very important, high-ranking member. This begged the question of why, then, he remained at Hogwarts. We had many suppositions, all of them unlikely, but we at least could be curtain that he was up to no good. I wondered if, perhaps, it had something to do with the mirror that the WAP boys had retrieved – with, I realized, the help the all of the GAB girls but myself – but Marcus didn’t know; he’d not heard a thing about the mirror since it had been retrieved, though he was quite certain it was still in Professor Patronius’ possession, since he had seen it in his office.
I was not unhappy to talk of happier things after such talk. The more we spoke of the dangers of what the Wizard Armed Patrol did, the more uneasy I felt. What if something happened to Marcus? Whatever would I do? It was to my credit that, my confession made the previous month, there was no thought in my mind save my worry for his person, and my thoughts of how very much I would miss him. I resolved that if there was any way I could help him, were he in danger, I would so. I was so very proud of his bravery, and so afraid that he might go one time and never return!
The topic of our Christmas gifts came up, and we agreed to exchange them at the Hogshead when we went for lunch. Noting my burden, he offered to carry it for me, but I refused, pointing out that soon enough it would be his and he’d have to carry it himself. We talked of the coming holidays, and of our interests (though I continued to insist that I was, in truth, not very interesting at all!) and of nothing serious; we had both, I realized, felt the effect of talking about the war. And in these improved spirits we wandered all about the village, admiring the animals at the familiar’ shop, making the purchases for my mother, confirming that we were both far to grown up to buy candy even as we both selected our favorites for purchase – though Marcus ended up buying me mine, since I had no money - and generally having a nice time of it. The best moment for me was surely when we entered Zonko’s Joke shop. Upon seeing me, the owner let out an exclamation of my name in the warmest tones, and informed me that he had sold all of the potions I had sent him, and he had been most remiss in not sending me the proceeds, and if I would hold out my hand please. I did so, and he placed in my hand 5 galleons. I was quite astonished, and thanked him profusely, and he declared that the pleasure was all his, and would I please provide him with the potions on a list he would have prepared momentarily. I left with my pocket jingling with coin and a list of no less than 20 potions he would purchase as soon as I could make them. I resolved to buy our lunch, to repay the candy that Marcus had bought me.
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One time I found a cheap room in Montana, and instead of showing me the room, the landlord told me to just go to the place and look at it because it was unlocked. I checked it out, it was fine, and I called her to rent it. She said the place was mine, and I could just pay her my rent by sending her a check. To get the key, she just told me where the key was sitting -- above the door to the room. So I got to go grab the key and move in without ever meeting her.
But this was a small town, and plus, she was taking the risk, not me! It was a weird feeling to just go to this room, take the key, lock it myself, and think "ok, now this room is mine!"
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I can't IMAGINE going through a rental process like that, but I guess it would depend - as you say - on where I was renting. In a small town, it wouldn't be as big a deal...and it's only right that the landlord be the one who take the risk, in my opinion, or at least that both parties take roughly equal risk. It was the TONS OF MONEY for a key that was unequal to me.
And I think I was probably justified, since she didn't e-mail me back. ;)
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*huggles*
-- Gerardo
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I hope to avoid going to an actual agent, but I will if I have to. They do know more people, but I know what I want, and I can cast my net pretty wide - I've found a pile of links to help me out. Still, if it comes to that I'll do it, but I'll cringe to. :)
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Glad you didn't get caught! Though it would be awesome if you already had an apartment lined up in NYC.
I hope your future apartment adventures have happier endings.
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I'm worried about finding any kind of deal at all, but I'm not worried that ultimately there will be a happy ending - it'll be much easier to bring about a happy ending if I'm actually on-site, and aside from having to do a lot of legwork in late December and January cold, I think it'll be alright. ;)
It would have been so nice, though, so very nice...
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