At this moment in time, as I am over 11000km away from my home, I often wonder about what's going on in my own four walls, and the person renting my property.
Two months ago, when I checked my bank, I noticed that I had received a half payment from my new tenant. "Odd..." I thought, but assumed the money was for something else (Long story, sold a Chesterfeild sofa), and I assumed that the first month was merely deposit (I couldn't remember because the previous tenant had moved in quite some time earlier).
Then the next month came, and it fell short of the target again, by roughly a fifth. Deciding that my landlord had taken care of the garden duties, I put it out of my mind.
So, upon checking the bank last week, I see that there is nothing. I decide to call up ol' blighty, and ask the landlord what the bleedin' 'ell is going on.
"It's the new tenant," she tells me. "First she said her son was stabbed in London (plausable), then her mother had a heart-bypass operation, then the daughter was supposed to pay, but went on holiday!"
Blood pounds in the ear drums. Who the fuck is in my house?
Really, I have no clue. Rest assured legal proceedings have began against the sponge.
martes, 2 de diciembre de 2008
lunes, 1 de diciembre de 2008
Memories ...
Not so long ago, some believe the year ought double 06 (it was actually '07), I arranged to meet a friend of mine to visit the cinema. The cinema was a bust, as the movie we wanted to see had ended, and my friend was contacted by one of her friends who was in town for the weekend. Suggestions were made that the three of us could enjoy an evening of drink and conversation.
I was introduced to the young man, and together, jabbering away in rapid Spanish, we spoken of various cultural aspects of our respective countries. The night began well, as we picked through the meats of our cultural stew.
Later on, in what can only be described as 'ignoring common sense, in hindsight,' we began to walk through a part of town which I knew to avoid. It was close to summer, so at 4:30am, the sun was beginning to rise. In front of us was a huge black guy and his blonde arm accessory. My old friend and I walked past with no problem. The new addition, in some bizarre sense of drunkeness, laughed at something the blonde girl said, as he walked alongside her. His reward? A punch to the jaw, equal to the force of a heavyweight boxer.
I turned around, and noticing the young man lying on the floor, I tried to diffuse the situation with reasonable argument and common sense. Did it work? Sadly, no. The thing which angered me most of all, was the reaction of his girlfriend. When he hit the young man (I heard the sound of it, and I doubt I will ever be able to forget that particular sound), the girl who he was with, laughed like a jackass. During my attempt to calm the gawp, he tried to punch me, too (a blind man could have seen it coming), and doing my best to pick up the guy off the floor (and calm my other friend down), I felt ashamed that this happened in Liverpool.
The young man was days away to returning home, to the country where I am now. He had two teeth loose, his jaw swelled and he couldn't chew for a month. I wonder if his missus is even more worse off?
I was introduced to the young man, and together, jabbering away in rapid Spanish, we spoken of various cultural aspects of our respective countries. The night began well, as we picked through the meats of our cultural stew.
Later on, in what can only be described as 'ignoring common sense, in hindsight,' we began to walk through a part of town which I knew to avoid. It was close to summer, so at 4:30am, the sun was beginning to rise. In front of us was a huge black guy and his blonde arm accessory. My old friend and I walked past with no problem. The new addition, in some bizarre sense of drunkeness, laughed at something the blonde girl said, as he walked alongside her. His reward? A punch to the jaw, equal to the force of a heavyweight boxer.
I turned around, and noticing the young man lying on the floor, I tried to diffuse the situation with reasonable argument and common sense. Did it work? Sadly, no. The thing which angered me most of all, was the reaction of his girlfriend. When he hit the young man (I heard the sound of it, and I doubt I will ever be able to forget that particular sound), the girl who he was with, laughed like a jackass. During my attempt to calm the gawp, he tried to punch me, too (a blind man could have seen it coming), and doing my best to pick up the guy off the floor (and calm my other friend down), I felt ashamed that this happened in Liverpool.
The young man was days away to returning home, to the country where I am now. He had two teeth loose, his jaw swelled and he couldn't chew for a month. I wonder if his missus is even more worse off?
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)
