August 27, 2013

• The Landlord’s Junk

  

  Elsie Russel Muse 1982

  I have been waiting to be struck by the blogging muse. And she has arrived in spades.

  

  I suspect, once my story is told, there will be advice and fist raising. BUT, and a really big but, I feel as though this will turn out fine without making a big dramatic fuss about anything. I may be wrong but I hope I am not.

  Preface: I love where I live and have had a very understanding landlord. I have had some financial crap (as everyone has had) over the almost six years I have lived here and have fallen behind on rent once or twice. I make it my top priority to catch up and my landlord has been accommodating with that. I fell very behind about two years ago and he was a saint. I am as grateful now as I was then. Shit happens. If you have never been in this situation, I am so glad for you. It is very stressful and pretty much ruins everything else you are doing. So, having an understanding and patient landlord has been a Dogsend.

  He is a very nice man. He has five daughters (the reason he has this place here in Davis was to house them all when they attended UC Davis). This place is in a great location and I really like living here.

  My most previous neighbors (I live in a duplex) were the worst ever. They also destroyed the place when they left. When my landlord and his family, who live at a distant, came to do the major repairs needed to make the place livable and rent-able again I offered my guest room and couch up.

  I was so glad to be able to repay his kindness.

  

  So, my landlord and additional daughter (s) and hubs and grand kids commenced upon cleaning and repairing the unit next door and staying at my place during the weekends. I helped when I could. We ate and drank together. It was great fun. At times I was working out of town they would stay and leave my place spotless. We laughed, we worked, we got along fine and I was glad to be helpful like he had always been to me.

  This has been going on since March. The last couple of months or so the daughters got busy and could not come along.

  I think it was the second lone visit when he switched gears from tenant/buddy to horny landlord weird stuff.

  

  First it was hovering and not going to work – just hovering around with me. I am a hostess and made chit chat and food and just supported enjoying the weekend. I am a friendly gal. I am a supportive gal. I am quick to pour coffee, a cocktail, make a sandwich. Hovering in his underpants. I thought it was weird but I averted my eyes and remained appropriate and friendly. I have had a home filled with boys and underpants and what not. I chose to think of this as just a boy thing.

  

  Then there was the weekend where the VERY lewd comment was made. I told him that nothing of the sort was going to happen, that I knew he is married and that I would never disrespect those boundaries. I also apologized for conveying anything beyond friendship in my actions. Seriously, I am above board and trying to avoid this ship wreck. He told me that he had been into my underpants drawer. (WHY???? I am a chubby fifty two year old grandmother?????)

  After this I put a post it note on my underwear drawer that reads NO NO NO.

  Through the day he kept thanking me for letting him “relax” on the weekend. Later a repeated offer to show me his penis. I walked to the furthest corner and faced the wall telling him NO and that this was a thing that could not be taken back. He stopped.

  The hovering in underpants continued and strange boyfriend like text messages ensued. Fortunately my work kept me out of town for several weekends.

  Well, this weekend…he made sure I saw his junk. The landlord flashed, hell no, he friggin exposed his junk to make sure I saw it in all it’s unexciting glory.

   

  I noted said junk (I had walked to the kitchen and when I walked back he had it out of his pants) and calmly told him to put his penis away immediately or I would get the broom (for some reason I saw myself scattering after a mouse with a broom). He put it away and kept mentioning how embarrassed he was and how calm I was. He found the whole thing charming.

  Dudes, it takes more then a landlord penis to ruffle me, K? 

  So, he works late into the night on Sunday and I pretend that I am asleep, lock the house and backyard up and turn off all the lights. I hear him try to come in but he finally leaves.

  

  Yea, I know what I might and should do. But I do not want to make waves or move. I don’t want to ruin this lonely, weird mans life. I just want to live here and be happy.

  I have told friends about this and of course, it is funny. Jokes are made. I get this. I do. But it isn’t that funny.

  In my heart I am just sad. I feel vulnerable. People are struggling with way worse things then this. My situation is not tragic. But I feel so sad. This has me feeling exposed (pardon the pun and alone. No one is here to stick up for me. I don’t mind being single but right now I do. Where is my brute boyfriend to punch this guy in the face?

   

  Be my hand and I will be yours.

  • 8:14 pm
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