Delete THIS, Realtor Man…

So today I got an email from a realtor who is showing us an apartment tomorrow. He asked if we could make our appointment an hour earlier. Fine, no problem! But as I hit “reply” I noticed something I hadn’t yet throughout our correspondence: his last name. Suddenly the two names together made much more sense than either apart. With my heart racing, I logged onto Facebook, thankful that I recently became friends with some of my ex’s buddies that I used to also be friends with. Through a quick friends-of-a-friend search, Facebook confirmed that the person I believed to be emailing me was, in fact, a realtor. So the short story is that I “finally found an apartment that isn’t a scam 140 miles from my hometown and the realtor is a skell that I happen to have beef with,” as Stef so eloquently put it. The long story, however, is that while I was pseudo-dating the infamous James, my sanity was called into question. Further, as our relationship dwindled, I found myself interested in James’ friends, including one named Mike. Mike lived in Philadelphia at the time, as he moved there a couple of years into my obsession with the lameass James. So I went to visit Mike. I stayed with Mike and his roommate, Realtor’s Name. I think it was a few years later that I realized Realtor’s Name was once again involved in my life. I had met up with James’ current girlfriend at the time, trying to warn her of what lay ahead should she choose to pursue this particular relationship. I think I wrote a blog post about it, and I’m almost perfectly certain that blog post magically disappeared. Now, I can’t say for certain where it went, but I can say that the person within the friend group that would be able to delete slanderous information would be the one and only Realtor.

Maybe it’s me. Maybe everyone has a boyfriend who lets them be their second girlfriend for 3 years. Maybe everyone has a hacker friend that deletes the one blog post that scars their name. Maybe everyone visits their ex pseudo-boyfriend’s best friend in another city and state and bunks with the guy that tries to rent them an apartment almost a decade later. Hell, maybe he’ll want to get a drink after. 

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