The Gift of Sense of Humor

On August 4, 2017, I crossed into the Phoenix city limits. I had two dogs, three blue containers of clothing and a laptop.

I had enough money for maybe one month’s rent and a whole lot of beans and rice.

My credit score was below sea level and I had a few weeks before creditors started to catch up with me. I was in a La Quinta trying to plan my next move when the phone rang.

It was a lady my buddy Wayne put me in touch with. A property manager. She was out of town at the time but after some conversation and a reference check, she told me how to open the lock box.

She came over a few days later and we had a nice chat. I made that poor woman wet herself laughing. You could hear her out in the street.

We ran out of Kleenex.

She hugged me hard and said she just had a death in the family and was grateful to be able to laugh again. Sometimes, she would call so I could tell her girlfriend a funny story.

I managed a few.

In a few weeks, she wanted me to sign a one year lease. I will never forget that day. She asked me for my social security number so she could check my credit.

I braced.

The noise she made when she saw it made me want to weep. I was John Dillinger on paper. I hung my head and figured I would look into VA Housing.

Not a good thought. Not with dogs.

Then I felt her hand on my shoulder as she handed me a pen. You could see the smile in her eyes. I was in. I rushed home to tell my doggies we had a permanent place to stay.

That lady still comes over for a few laughs every now and then. With a friend, or two. 🙂


Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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