It's been a funny day. One of those days when the air seems charged. And words turn into witticisms as they tumble out, carelessly brilliant. You're positively charming. Your cigarettes light first try. And handsome, expensive-looking men swing around as you pass. One of those days that don't happen enough.
This evening I visited a potential apartment. It's just two blocks from my work, on the oldest street in the city. It's beautiful and gothic, with a heavy quiet and regality to it.
The man who lives there is an actor. He's generically handsome, squints slightly as he talks,a nervous laugh, and a height of perhaps 4ft. He's the first and only little person I've met. His dwarfism is the apartment's biggest selling point. I've always had a fascination with miniature things, and miniature people, and now I have the chance to have my very own.
Yes the entrance, lift and vast rooftop are gorgeous, opulent. But the apartment itself is like something from House and Garden, modern bachelor feature.It's immaculate, with all the gadgets. The decor is conservatively zany, clean. Trendy in the worst way and utterly unimaginative. The body corporate seem to have a lot of rules. I don't like rules. Every apartment is mandatorily owner-occupied. Residents are prohibited from working in the sex industry- even as exotic dancers!! (Somehow that fact slipped into conversation about past flatmates). No smoking. No pets.
The odd thing was, as the little resident showed me around, he proudly informed me that there was not a single Asian living in the 25 apartments of the building. Every potential owner must meet with the board and be screened before being permitted to buy in. Yes, there are a lot of Asians in this city now, and at times it feels a little overrun, but as a little person, one would assume he'd experienced a lot of discrimination growing up, and would take no pleasure in it himself. Not so.
It's a strange world.
My kitten and I will find another home.