Friday afternoon was a little strange. I had one of those nightmare occurrences, something I’ve dreaded from the very beginning of taking this job, and of course it involves a Scorpio.
Show apartments, which is really more like selling a product, and count incoming rent checks, answer company e-mail, and look at some marketing material.
The hardest-working crewmember is the maintenance guy. I got a call from “el jefe” asking me to see about getting the maintenance guy to do some little chore, and I found the guy – up on the roof. At least, following clues, that’s where he should’ve been. His truck, a ladder leading up to the awning, and I took one look up at the pitched roof, sniffed the tar, looked down at the cowboy boots I had on, and I decided, for the mere pittance I’m getting paid, it wasn’t worth the risk of clambering up on the roof to get his attention. I could just see me sliding down to the edge, and breaking something.
Didn’t want to tempt the fates so I didn’t. I hollered until I got his attention.
I hauled myself back to the office after I delivered the work order, and met two more future tenants.
“Hello triple latte,” one of them greeted me.
“How’d you find me?”
“On the web.”
My website? The company’s sites have no signature that I was ever there, although, artistically, the work is pretty clearly mine.
As it turned out, the source was elsewhere, some of the underground marketing I’d worked on. My secret identity was safe for a little while.
But that Scorpio? She does make a good coffee drink, arguably one of the best I’ve ever had.
