It’s no fun being around drunken people, you never know what they are going to go off the handle on. Tonight the not-nice half of the landlords came home with breath you wouldn’t want to have any open flames within 10 feet of. Turns out the chocolate pudding that the other half told me to eat was something he had his eye on, and I had finished it – big mistake.
“What are you contributing around here anyways!” he roars after telling him I was told to eat the stuff by the missus and even after we had talked earlier in the evening about me eating the bowl of pudding as well, and it was no big deal then. Anyways, I had another package of it so I went down and got it and brought it up to give to him to replace it and he wants me to cook it. No problem says I, it was me who ate the other batch and only fair if he thought it was a mistake of the missus etc. Besides, it will only take a minute as it’s the instant kind we’re talking about from the begginning, not cooked pudding.
Wrong answer, it’s not about the pudding at all. Recognizing someone enraged when I see it, it was time for me to beat it downstairs to my room. Have to stop at the bathroom ’cause I’m freaking out a bit and for sure have to take a minute, and by the time I come out the door he’s coming off the right hand side out of the dark of the furnace room, like out of some sort of Stephen King novel.
There’s no convincing or reminding him of all the things that I do around here and how much in the past he’s said he appreciates it, as do I for trading the rent in exchange of course. Instead tonight it’s slamming fists into the wall and yelling “I’m not drunk, you’re nuts!” when I try a diplomatic tactic of calming the situation down.
I make it down to the other end of the basement and my room, and in that time he’s already slammed up the stairs doing a weird turning off the lights and going in the dark thing again while the stair banister takes a beating. Barely in the room, tuned off the TV and just sitting down to wonder what to do next and he’s at the door slamming it into the side of the TV to make sure it’s open all the way when I try to close it and shut him out.
Gotta start thinking real fast now, he’s got me trapped in a corner so quick what does he value most? Bingo, he wants that rent money. I finally says, “what is it, the rent money?” and after getting a nod on that I can feel a little breathing room to get him to leave me alone and I say “how much?” and we’re back to the original deal once again, no barters. The new deal starts in April, pay for the month in advance and no more barters or I’m out of here. It’s too bad that he just understands the value of money, a loss for sure.