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the daily column

Burned

It’s approaching the end of the day, Friday. I’m getting ready to go to Option C to sign a contract or whatever – basically to finalise on the call I made the day before to say “yes.” When, ring ring

Me: “Hello, Karan here.”

Caller: “Ah, hello Karan, this is Anna, from the…?”

Oh, it’s the Polish woman from the house. Checking to see when I’m coming I guess.

Me: “Oh hi Anna! How are you? I’m just about to head out now.”

Anna:  “Ah, I’m ok. Look, Karan, I have some bad news for you,”

Oh, maybe I’ll have to do this signing on the weekend…

Anna: “We’ve given the room to someone else, who put the money down right now.”

Fuck.

So it turns out I wasn’t clear enough that I was prepared to pay for the rent next week – naturally, when I’m living only 10 min walk from work, I’m going to stay there, so they assumed that I wouldn’t pay until next week. Whereas they needed the money now. So they called me less than an hour before I’m supposed to go meet them and told me they’ve given the place to someone who has put the money down now. Despite me saying yes the day before and them arranging for me to come tonight at 7:30 to sign.

Bastards.

Of course, there’s no real point trying to argue it – I’d have to live with these people for the next 6 months, and there’s no way that would be a healthy start to the relationship. It’s just this sense of impotent fury that I have at these people for screwing around with me. And while I haven’t turned down option A or B as yet, real estate apparently moves fast here so I’ve no idea if it’ll still be there come Monday. So some desperate searching for me this weekend.

Bloody assholes.

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