
Something seemed off as soon as our potential new landlord cracked open the door to the basement apartment in Southeast DC. She seemed normal enough, but her pants were unbuttoned and an inch of bare belly showed under her business-casual blouse. One whiff inside the door and we knew she was hiding a dirty secret.
“Is that incense?” I asked, pointing to the smoldering stick on the windowsill.
“Smells good, hmm?” Hmm.
I looked around and noticed all the windows were cracked. Incense was burning everywhere. I began to investigate further.
“What’s that smell? Is that… pee?”
“No, no. Previous tenant had big dog. Would you like to fill out an application?”
I’m not sure if we were just tired of our apartment search or if it was that we hadn’t come across an apartment this cheap in DC before, but we ignored our common sense and reached for the form.
“Is that water on the floor?” I said as I looked up at an obviously damp ceiling.
“Oh, yeah, somebody must have spilled that there.”
I took a final sniff around the room and walked up to Josh who was filling out the form.
“Do you really want to pay $35.00 to apply for this place?” I said quietly in his ear.
He stuffed the application in his green shoulder bag and we were on our way.
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