Meeting the Landlord’s Son and his Girlfriend
posted at 12:01 pm
on Sep. 3, 1999
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Dinner at ‘Make You A Pig’
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Moving In
I went over to the office in the morning and for lunch, Os and I went to Ghandi, a vegetarian restaurant. I ordered the Sun Plate, which had: creamed spinach (of course), eggplant with tomato and soy and cheese (or something like cheese, let’s not ask), and cucumber and sprouts and something else tasty. Ghandi is in a basement down the steepest flight of stairs I’ve ever seen in a non-castle environment.
I had to dash off to get back to my place for an appointment. I took a cab, and it would have been about the same amount of time if I had run instead—traffic was horrible. Besides, my appointment was late.
Bazak was who I was rushing to meet. Bazak is the son of the fellow who I’m renting from. Bazak speaks English and Yiddish, but very little Hungarian. He showed up at 2:20 p.m. with his dad. We figured out how to turn on the gas heaters, the stove, the water heater. He explained about the meters. We talked about payments and when we’ll pay and how much. He seemed very nice. About half way through, this random girl walked in. Turns out, she’s not a random girl, she’s his girlfriend, and they had lived in the apartment before, though they moved to the suburbs because they have dogs. She gave me some advice for where to find expats, and they all introduced me to the neighbours.
I got several calls just as I was going to bed tonight—Carole, my landlady from Paris, called and thanked me for leaving so much stuff in her apartment. I thought I had taken most everything that I owned, but I guess Ryan Hanau, the previous tenant, had left a bunch of stuff. Also, I can only imagine what would have happened if I had shown up for customs with even more boxes…
Also, my Dad called and we talked about the possibility of him coming to visit this fall.
Hooray!
