Was This a Personality Mismatch or Something Much Darker?-Part 2
The world is not a static place. People change, evolve. — Mahesh Bhatt
“Where are you? You are running late. You said you’ll be here 2 hours ago.” “Amy, I am not too far away, there is so much traffic. I have to admit, I didn’t leave early enough.” “Okay, I’ll wait for you in the lobby. My luggage is in the luggage room.” A few minutes later, I met up with Amy. We loaded her luggage into the car and drove to her new rental. It was a 25 minutes drive and on the other side of town.
We arrived and offloaded Amy’s luggage. I hugged her and drove off. I was running late for my next shift. Much later, I buzzed her to ask if she had settled in. “Have you unpacked?” “Yes, I have, as much as I need to. It feels good to be light and in a different space.” “How many months did you pay for?” “One month, remember the goal is to move again if I am unhappy for any reason. We can’t let history repeat itself. My room is pretty, though. We’ll see how things go.”
It turned out to be a good decision. Now, when Amy had interacted with the homeowner, it appeared there was a weekly cleaning arrangement. However, for the whole month of Amy’s stay, that turned out to be hogwash. There were always dishes in the sink. Her housemates appeared oblivious to a sign above the kitchen tap that read: DO NOT LEAVE DIRTY DISHES IN THE SINK! The common areas were an eyesore. There was visible dirt on the floors and along the corridors. The bathroom was filthy. Amy said it reminded her of when she was in boarding school.
Having recently lived in a house that was squeaky clean, this was a clear contrast. Amy became the housekeeper. See how roles reverse! She developed a ritual. She would make a solution of disinfectant and water and wipe down the sink and kitchen counters. She would throw out the trash, scrub the sink and wipe clean the stove knobs and fridge handles. Finally, she would mop the floor and only after that, food prep. One day, as she spoke to me about her cleaning ritual, I had a thought. “Why not ask your landlord for a discount based on this cleaning service? It’s your time and is habitual.” “That’s not a bad idea.” I had my reservations about Amy pursuing it. She hardly changed the status quo unless she had no choice.
She said to me: “my former housemate did not appreciate my decency. She actually called me filthy. She will have a fit if she lived here.” And we both laughed. Jokes aside, Amy had some epiphanic moments. The hygiene standards put her off in her new apartment. However, she knew she needed some diplomacy to pass the message across. She marveled at how her previous housemate had repeatedly addressed her in displeasure. Now she was in the driver’s seat. She needed to balance expression and action with grace. She also knew hypocrisy wasn’t farfetched.
Amy kept at the cleaning. Soon enough, one of her housemates followed suit. Perhaps, out of empathy. Sometimes, she would ask Amy if she needed help and Amy would graciously decline. History was being rehashed. Except, it was a different setting with different people. The only common denominator: Amy!
I couldn’t visit Amy at her new place besides when I dropped her off. There was this no-guest policy. Her housemates weren’t exactly adherent. We met at coffee shops or the mall. So one day, over a cup of coffee, I asked: “Are you moving or are you extending your stay?” “Babe, you know the answer. The contract states weekly cleaning. I have seen cleaning only 3 times in my stay; one before I moved in and the other two when I made requests for supplies. Two of those cleanings were touch-up cleanings and not thorough.” “Will you miss your housemates?” “I will. They are young, bubbly and friendly. You can’t have it all I guess. At this moment, I prefer being with warm people who might not tick their boxes than someone who is ticking all the boxes but is cold and unpleasant.”
Exactly one month after her move-in, I was at Amy’s place again. “Where’s the new place?” “It’s 25 minutes away. They would not let me pre-inspect, so I have no clue what awaits me besides online pictures. Let’s do a review in two weeks. Perhaps this time, I’ll get so rattled that I’ll take concrete steps to buy my own home.” I smiled as we drove off.
We arrived at a bungalow on the other side of town. It had a sale sign in front of it. Apart from the cars parked in the driveway, the house looked deserted. “Where is the entrance?” “It’s at the back. Let me go first. I’ll come back for my luggage.” Amy walked to the door, keyed in the code, and opened the door which squeaked on its hinges. She looked in. In front of her was a short flight of stairs descending into the basement. The steps were noisy, overused, and looked like they would give way soon. Those steps reminded her of those horror movie moments. The search begins for a child who gets lost in a haunted section of an unfamiliar house. Amy’s rattling had begun!
