Some things don't...

Luis and I have been looking for our own place to live for a while now. We like Cynthia and Sergio, but having our own place to live in would improve things considerably. Unfortunately it’s difficult to rent a place here. Houses are either family owned or already rented out. Seems people don’t move around here much.

The other day I saw a “Se Renta” sign across the street from our shop. From the outside, the house looked small and nondescript. It was being worked on at the time, so we wandered in and asked the workers who owned the house. Luis knew who the owner was, and we wandered around the place to check it out.

There was a long entrance hall which opened up into a front room. There was a bank of windows that looked out into an open courtyard, which would bring in a lot of light – a rarity in the houses here. Off the courtyard there were two bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom, and another room with a bank of windows. At the back of the house there was the customary water tank, and extra space for storage. The entire house was freshly painted white and was in very good shape. Plus there was a small front room which opened onto the street, to be used as a storefront if we wanted. We could rent just the house or the house and the one room storefront. We had been talking about getting a showroom for our woodworking, so this was perfect.

In fact, the house was perfect. Small, but not too small, lots of light, half a block from our shop, right on a main street (so our showroom would be easily accessible), and clean.

I tried not to get too excited. The “se renta” sign had only been up for a few days, so I figured not too many people would have asked about it. And we had been excited about houses before only to have those hopes dashed. So I tried to remain neutral.

Luis called the number on the sign and we arranged to meet the owner at her house that evening at 5.30pm. The rest of the day we talked about the house and how the front shop would be perfect for our showroom. At 5.30 we went to the owners house. Luis rang the bell and an old man came to the door. Luis said we were here to look at the house, and he went back inside to find the owner.

When she came out, she and Luis spoke for a few minutes. Luis said that he was the brother of Cynthia and they had rented an apartment from her before. He enquired about the house. She said that she had already rented it. She said that someone had given her a deposit, which was allowing her to have work done on the house. But she kept the “se renta” sign up, just in case things didn’t work out with them. Luis thanked her for her time and we left.

Shit. Another house rented out from underneath us.

“She didn’t want to rent to us,” Luis said.

“What? I thought she said it was already rented out.”

“That was just an excuse. She just didn’t want to rent to us.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I don’t know.”

This baffled me. In the States someone may not want to rent to you, but they have the freedom to decide that privately. You fill out an application, go away, hope to hear from them that you have the apartment. Here it’s sort of first come first served. Sort of. Unless the renter doesn’t like you for some reason. Then they tell you some bullshit excuse just to get you to go away.

As the day wore on, Luis remembered that his brother Antonio had also rented from this woman. Antonio isn’t the most responsible person. He apparently had skipped out on some rent to this woman in the past. And he wasn’t completely sure how things had ended with the apartment he and Cynthia had rented fro her before – he had been living in the States and Cynthia was responsible for that apartment. She may have been late on rent too.

And Luis had had the genius idea to tell her who his family was.

Damn his family!

And damn this woman for not renting to us! I was really frustrated by her refusal to rent to us. I’m a responsible person! And the place was perfect for us! Damn, damn, damn!

I’ve been fairly level headed about this thing in the past. This was our fifth house we had looked at, and none of them had worked out. But this is the one that pushed me over the edge. I had kept my feelings inside for the previous losses. This time I ranted and raved. “OH COME ON!!!!!! What the hell? What do we have to do to rent a fucking house? AAAAARRRRRGH!"

All of this was in my head, btw.

Now I sway between cursing the woman as we drive by her house and trying to send out happy, loving, pro-renting vibes to her. But people here don't change their minds. It's a sign of weakness if you do. So I don't suspect my happy vibes will do anything.

Dang.