I'm moving to my new apartment on Friday, so I had to go into the leasing office yesterday afternoon to finish signing all the papers. I got there right at noon, which was the time I had set up to meet with the apartment manager. Of course, she wasn't there.
But Bonnie and Linda were.
Bonnie prefers to be called "Miss Bonnie," which I refuse to do because she annoys the junk out of me. Bonnie is my version of Seinfeld's Newman. She never follows through on any apartment-related activity that I request - be it maintenance requests, general questions, or most recently this whole moving dilemma. She never remembers who I am, and when I follow up with her, she frequently gives me a completely different answer than the day before. She's good at the little personal digs, too - you know, saying things like "as I said previously...." and "as you well know..." The little sayings that make you want to jump through a phone and get slap-happy.
Every time she returns a phone call to me she opens with "Hi, Amanda...this is Miss Bonnie," to which I always reply loudly "Well hey, Bonnie." I know it gets under her skin, which is precisely why I love doing it. It's this little game we play, and I always win. If Bonnie were in her 70's, I would probably address her as "Miss." However, Bonnie is about 42. Bonnie and I are going to throw down someday - we might end up in the fountain outside the leasing office, just like the great Dynasty pool fight.
Then there's Linda. I like Linda. Linda reminds me of my fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Stapp. Her hair is always neatly tied up in a bun, and she's usually wearing a bright shade of floral. She is unmarried and loves to talk about her cats with me. She is perfectly organized and always - always - returns my phone calls promptly, and usually with the solution to any query I've had. She is always cheerful.
So yesterday when I walked into the office, Linda beamed out a "Hello, Amanda!" while Bonnie looked at me with no recollection of who I was and shuffled into her office to avoid having to work with me. (About ten minutes later, she poked her head out of her office to ask Linda a question, then looked back at me and said - I kid you not - "Oh. It's you.") Linda explained that Belinda, the never-there apartment manager, was at lunch but should be back soon.
So I waited. And waited. I wasn't too put out, because I really wasn't in a huge hurry, but poor Linda started to get antsy on my behalf, and decided to engage me in some apartment gossip. She proceeded to tell me about this elderly tenant that had just called the office to tell them that he had just come into a rather large inheritance - around $250,000 - and would like to pay a few years' rent right now. "Wow!" I said, and then Linda said something that completely shocked me:
"I wonder if he'd adopt me. You know, I could make him happy. I could dress up in a Britney Spears schoolgirl costume for him."
Yes. That. Just. Happened. And no one was there to witness it with me! I had to literally bite the insides of my cheeks to keep from making an "Ew, ew, ew!" face. Thankfully, Linda started laughing so I could laugh with her, but I'm still shuddering. It was funny, but man...I have a new mood killer to think about when Piano Man is around. That's a mental picture I can't shake -Scary Sexy Linda with pom-pom ponytail holders and knee-socks. No, no, no. Noooo.
Song I'm digging today: "Cry" by Hans Zimmer
So The Holiday is my favorite movie of all time (yes, I'm serious), due in large part to the music. The soundtrack is amazing. I listen to it every day at work - it motivates me to be all proactive and be like Kate Winslet's character in the movie, who I've decided is basically me with a British accent.
This song captures the essence of everything I want in life - introspectiveness, adventure, and lots of strings. Yep. I'm looking for more strings in my life (and if you love this movie as much as I do, you'll get that reference).