Knock knock. Who's there?
|Tonight a real estate agent came by to show my apartment. I'm not renewing my lease for the fall - which is five months from now - but realtors have been coming through our home for the past month almost daily and sometimes multiple times in a single afternoon. We can't seem to stop them, but I've started meeting them at the door (since they tend to walk in unannounced, even when we're home & no matter what we might be doing) and telling them to leave. Last week a strange man walked into my kitchen and saw me sitting at my desk, at which point I yelled, "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" and then "I have an expectation of privacy in my own home!" I'm beyond sick of feeling unsafe even in my own bedroom.|
So when Will the real estate agent showed up tonight, I told him he could not wander through my apartment. This is my home, and you do not have approval to be here. You've already unlocked my front door; now lock it on the way out.
Dude was at least a foot taller than me, which I'd like to once again point out is probably not even part of his consciousness. Don't hulk over me - get out of my fucking atrium. After he insisted, "I left a voicemail!" - which is certainly not permission to enter my residence - I shut the door and locked it after he finally moved out of the doorway. He shouted, "You could be nicer next time!" So I yelled back, "So could you!"
Then I heard more from the stairwell, so I went into the hallway to hear him yelling, "See you soon, sweetie!" and "See you reeeeaaaaal soon!"
Excuse me? Is that a threat? Because I like to use the phrase from the film, Swingers, "you don't know me; you don't know my address" - but in this case, that doesn't apply. In fact, you're threatening me in my own building, and you know exactly who I am and which unit is mine. You even apparently have a key to my fucking apartment.
Writing down his plates and later locating his place of employment and semi-apologetic boss didn't make me feel much better. Tomorrow I'm calling the Greater Boston Association of Realtors - with whom I am quite sure this man is not affiliated due to his lack of ethics conduct - and then I'll move onto the MA real estate commission.
You fucked with the wrong woman, sir, and this has already been one hell of a week. I wish for a world without violence, but I have an iron doorstop for a reason, and you'd better not set foot near it again.