Sunday, May 22, 2011

On Liars and Cheats

Still mad about this. For a while we've known that we were going home at the end of the school year. The day after it was "official" a man from school, the elementary school principal's husband, I'll call him Brady, because it rhymes with his real name, which is Gr_dy. Brady came up to my husband and asked what we were doing about our house, because they wanted it. They REALLY wanted it. They had been to our house for dinner one night and raved about the house and how great it was. And he was apologetic and self deprecating and said that sometimes people can be "vultures" about things like this, but that they didn't want to miss out on this great house.

And so, we thought that part of our disengaging from Budapest was settled and it felt like at least one thing would work out well. The crux of this is that we again are living with our own stupidity. We signed a 2 year lease. And, after the "littering" incident, who KNOWS what the hell they'll do to me for breaking a lease.  

So, when April rolled around and teachers were in town to look at houses, we didn't show ours. People asked and we told that that Bindy (wink wink- not her real name) and Brady were taking it. And every time, Every Time, I saw Brady, he'd smile at me and say in his folksy Texas accent "You can't give that house away. We Want that house. Don't show that house to anyone else." and so on.

Until now, at the proverbial eleventh hour. Now they told us they don't want it. In an email, which also included an admonishment that I should have been more proactive about asking the landlord about his desire to re-rent the house. (except that we didn't need to do that because, oh yeah-- we had FOUND someone to take the house. You..... You loser.) And her helpful email included a list of the things we should do to rent the house right away: listing it on the board at school, making sure new incoming teachers know about it, etc.  Except, oh yeah-- people have already FOUND housing, and we missed that window because your smiling, look-you-in-the-eye-and-lie-right-at-you husband kept telling me that he wanted the house.

Never once did she say "I'm sorry. I changed my mind. I should have told you." Her email was this weird 7th grade, no caps "sorry how things worked out with the house" AS IF she had nothing to do with it. That's something you would say to someone who's house got foreclosed on, or swept away in a flood. And you'd still use punctuation and capitals wouldn't you? I know I would. Because I'm not in junior high anymore.

She's a liar and a user. I could go on and on and on- even more than I already am. But I won't. She's in the blog. I release this anger into the universe and I will eat whatever deposit we don't get back and I will move the hell on with my little life and I will hope I don't get pulled off the plane on the tarmac at the airport. And I will secretly hope the Universe kicks her once or twice in the coming year, because, right now, I'm not above wanting her to feel bad.

No comments: