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Maria went to look at an apartment yesterday, one that we spotted a for rent sign in the window while driving around. The owner/landlord lives on the third floor, the apartment was on the second floor, another tenant on the first.
The lady started out by asking “Do you have children? Well, your children should be at least ten by now. You sure did start late”.
“You know, most children are really brats, they make a lot of noise.”
“Oh, so you are married to an American…Is he one of those nice ones, or one of the beastly kind? If you yell at him does he shut up? Or is he one of the bad ones?”
“And here is the parking area. You know, Mr. such and such, on the first floor, he has a brand new BMW X3, it’s not even registered yet! You should have seen when he arrived. He was living in Brazil, you know. He brought back all kinds of beautiful things. A whole container! Oh, and here is my car, it’s an old car…but it’s a Mercedes Benz, you know!”
Oh, you’re Spanish is good. How long have you been abroad? You know, some people come back after 3 months saying “Helloooo.”
To Maria’s Dad: “Don’t I know you somewhere. Didn’t you work in a bank?”
“Yes. But I’m retired.”
“Oh, that’s where I know you from. Why did you retire so young? Retire young, and you go to waste.”
We decided it would not be a good idea to have a landlord like this living upstairs.