[Newspoetry] Finding a Subletter

[bhagy at onthejob.net]

bravo!  bravo! sniffle, sniffle!  gushing applause!  

i'm enjoying all the comforts of home without having to be ho..., er oh
wait, i am home  michigan is really cold!  boy am i glad i live amongst
the cornfields which can break the wind.

enjoy the weekend, yall, plus all of dem dereudder days too, k.

brian


On Wed, 22 Dec 1999, William Gillespie wrote:

> The first one only called because he had had a fight with his wife and
> was making the gesture of finding her a new apartment to prove some
> point. He referred to her in grumpy tones. I was a trifle disgusted.
> 
> The next two arrived at my doorstep at the same time such that it was
> impossible to address the serious one, whom I later realized was a
> dancer who had been in a performance with me recently. Instead, the
> college kid with the cocky strut that seemed like a chronic walking
> impediment only wanted to ask me about my records. His only problem with
> the place was that it was too far from campus. Yeah, I thought, this is
> a nice neighborhood.
> 
> A message on my voice mail reciting a litany of questions:
> 
> AC?
> no
> Laundry?
> no
> Parking?
> oh yeah, lots of parking
> 
> Then came the woman with the voucher. When I opened the door to let her
> in she freaked in terror: "Oh my God I'm scared of cats!" I hadn't
> anticipated this, and, confused, stepped out into the hall and closed
> the door to the apartment behind me. Good salesmanship failed me: "Well,
> if you're afraid of cats, then my cats are really really going to upset
> you. I guess I shouldn't show you the apartment."
> 
> Then came an elderly couple - rural - escorting their strange,
> 30-something spinster daughter with wide, frightened, evangelical eyes,
> who explained in earnest that her grandfather had lived in the building
> in the 20's and that they had always wanted to see the inside of it.
> They asked me questions about my belongings. "No, I'm not an art
> student. So, are you guys actually looking for an apartment, or do you
> just scan the ads every week hoping for a chance to see the inside of
> this building?" The old man said that he and his wife were looking for
> an apartment "for her" - referring to the daughter. I wondered how many
> years they had been looking.
> 
> My bad luck seemed about to break when I spoke to a woman on the phone
> at her job at Human Kinetics. She seemed very enthusiastic. Until I told
> her about the great view and she discovered that I lived on the 3rd
> floor: "I have a piano." Memories flashed through my mind of moiving in
> - Paul and I trying to wrestle the couch around the bend in the narrow
> stairway. Good salesmanship again failed me. "Well, if you have a piano,
> maybe you better not live here."
> 
> Alicia is a very friendly student of Eastern European studies,
> transferring to the U of I from ISU. I'm quite sure my landlord will
> like her, and will tear up my lease and sign a new lease with her. I am
> sure he will do this because she has money, and because she is a young
> woman with an accent. It's a nice accent: he might even try to fix the
> place up. She and I spoke for some time, it was enjoyable. She was the
> first person I had showed the place to who struck me as sane. On her way
> out, she paused beside the litterbox where Woofy was crouched, face
> intent.
> 
> "Stinky kitty," she said, not disapprovingly.
> 
> And so ended my life at 104 S. Grove, where much Unknown was written,
> where Newspoetry began, and where my life accumulated power and purpose
> after a decade of struggle. And so also may end, with any luck, my life
> as a refugee tenant, fleeing from one rundown room to the next, a
> permanantly transient ghost confined to the borders of Champaign County,
> but, spiritually, homeless.
> 
> It's been a great year and a great way to end it. When I have swept and
> mopped the apartment and I shut the door behind me for the last time -
> well, that will be closure. Literally.
> 
> -Ed.
> 
> 
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