Our Apartment Guy

The train rides above ground over here and still I look downward into my book. I may be missing the view, but I am appreciating the way the sun illuminates my pages—so bright my eyes automatically blacken the space around them. I note that the M train makes for a lovely reading experience. I met Jayden two summers ago when he joined the team at my job. He is sitting across from me on this train with his headphones on maybe listening to a girl singing pop music. I follow him off the train as he takes a phone call with the other Jaedon in our lives. Interesting how judgmental I am of my surroundings when I consider I might live there though I find myself content anywhere with a roof and a window, somehow.

The numbers on the apartment door watch us pass by reciting their very name until the two of us turn around and find them. The sun seems to be focused on doing two things: burning Jayden’s neck and overheating my body. Somehow Jayden can bare it and stands in front of the apartment and I watch from the patchy shade cast on the sidewalk by the skinny tree in the sidewalk. I also watch the drivers coming down the road; the guy showing the apartment is going to be arriving by car. A well dressed Hispanic man approaches with a briefcase then walks past my gaze, that’s not our guy. A gay-looking white man in a tank top and short shorts is holding a few things and a quart of milk on his walk home, that’s not our guy either but how cool would it be if he was? A stocky white man with medium length dyed hair wearing a McDonald’s graphic tee and sweat-shorts is walking our way. “Ain’t no way” I mouth to Jayden. That same name he inquired as he got closer. That’s our guy!?

Suddenly in an even better mood and interested in the character of this man, I introduce myself and follow him and Jayden inside, then the skylight-lit fourth floor welcomes us. I just noticed this man has a tattoo on his left forearm reading “MEME” in the font older internet memes were written in, the font is Impact I think. Jayden and I smile quite big and the words “oh this is cute” just fall right out of my mouth as we step into the unit. Unfortunately the next thing to fall is the idea of living here. Why doesn’t that bedroom have a window? Our guy goes out to pull his car around while Jayden and I perform a eulogy for this unit. We figure now is a good time to pee since we don’t have to think about awkwardly asking while getting the tour now.

We leave the building for the first and last time in search of a man wearing a McDonald’s graphic tee sitting in a car waiting for us. “Yeah get on in” he says when I ask if we could ride along to the next unit. Speaking of new neighborhoods, I think my knees are in different zip codes sitting behind a pushed back seat and a closer look at the dyed hair of our guy. Jayden tells me we’re driving toward his current apartment and that some friends live around there too as our guy rolls up his windows. A fire hydrant is giving free car washes on the street, but the last time our guy drove past a scene like this, the inside of the car got washed too. He starts to parallel park by the unit but “half-asses” it because—well just because I guess.

The plants in front of this apartment are so nice, I think to myself then relay to Jayden and he agrees. Our guy gets the front door open but couldn’t find the unit’s key in the Master Lock outside so he begins to search in the grandeur-on-a-budget entryway. It is so beautiful, gently lit by chandeliers. We three proceed upstairs without finding a key. “Oh the tenants are home” sent mine and Jayden’s eyes straight to each other. A bit wearily but somehow comfortably guided by the amusing whatever-ish energy of our guy we approach the door. Our guy finds another Master Lock to look for the unit key, but again has no luck. Instead of ringing a doorbell or knocking, all while assuming the tenants are home, our guy pulls out a metro card and swipes through the door’s lock. I reacted in the same way you don’t laugh at a dark joke, but are impressed by the wit of. An eyebrow raised, lips pulled back at each side, holding back a nervous but real smile. Our guy pops his head in and lets in a “hello” before himself to find that no one is home. Jayden and I go in past him like we are with an older sibling or cool friend getting us into some weird kind of trouble. We walk through the unit like it’s a crime scene—don’t touch anything, but pay attention. This unit has the worst layout and a third bedroom that I mistook for a large storage closet. “Girl is that a bedroom” I ask Jayden while my mind is suddenly more interested in the life of the person living in the larger bedroom next to it. They had a shooter of Fireball with a notebook on the windowsill next to a floor bound bed and an open suitcase with jeans thrown atop. I remember that this isn’t a crime scene, it’s surprisingly an apartment tour, so Jayden and I finish looking around and head out with our guy.

Not a word has to be said from either party about getting in touch about these units. The people-pleaser in me can’t even find it in me to lie and say we will. Our guy apologizes for how we entered the apartment and goes on his way and Jayden and I go on ours. We think about what the hell just happened and reconsider how this apartment hunt is going. A short walk takes us back to Jayden’s current place where the air conditioning can lift our spirits. Today was weird and somehow without making any progress in finding a home, I am so happy.