From Eventual to Imminent

In the end, Scott negotiated for me an apartment larger than my old one by 179 square feet (16.6 m²), movers, and a year lease for my current rate. The boy did good.

Saturday morning I sat down in the leasing office to sign the new papers. "Here's an application for you to complete. And here's one for Scott," the assistant manager said as she handed me two applications.

"Why do I have to fill out another application?"

"We're treating this as a new lease instead of as a transfer."

"Er, okay. But why one for Scott? He doesn't live with me."

"Your lease says anyone who has been here for 14 days is required to be on the lease." The assistant manager brushed her flat, platinum blonde hair behind one ear.

"But he hasn't established residency here. He doesn't get his mail here. He has his own lease."

"He's living here! We've seen him around the grounds and we worked with him on your new lease."

"He's not living here. His things aren't here! This is MY apartment and MY lease."

She sat back in her chair, high on her power trip, and folded her arms, "I don't believe you," she smirked.

I took my keys and slid them across the desk. "Here. Go check my apartment. His stuff isn't there. Go check my mailbox; he has no mail there."

"I'm not going to do that."

"Then don't call me a liar!" I shouted.

"You are in violation of your lease by having him here for 14 days."

"You are in violation of the lease by failing to provide me a 'habitable' apartment!"

I thought my movie-star line would impress her. It didn't. "We're mending that by providing you a new apartment," she said statically. She leaned forward for emphasis, "And he is living here. We all know it."

"He's a visitor!"

"No he's not!"

I wanted to scratch her eyes out. "Prove it," I stated.

"We don't need to. Either he is on the lease on we're scratching the whole deal and you can move out today and find someplace else to live. He said 'we' in reference to everything about your apartment. We discussed the details of your lease with him."

"That's your fault. I don't care that you discussed it with him, but you should have looked up my file and made sure he was on it. If it's against your policy to discuss details of the lease with people not on it, then that's your error. Besides me being out of town last week to attend a FUNERAL--which you knew about--I have always been present with Scott with concerns about my apartment."

"He showed a vested interest in your new apartment."

"He doesn't give a shit about your apartments! He cares about me! He has a vested interest in me!" I fought back.

"He has to be on this lease," she mechanically stated.

"No!" I let out weakly.

"Then you're not getting the keys to your new apartment," the bitch smiled triumphantly.

"Look. We're not married. He's not related to me. I don't understand why he's required to be on legal documents when he doesn't live with me." I looked at her hand. Somehow this horrible girl snagged a fiance because a diamond sparkled on her stupid, manicured finger. "You've had boyfriends before, right?" I tried again.

"I don't see how that's relevant," she quipped back.

"It is relevant! Do you want every boyfriend you've ever had on your leases? Scott's just a boyfriend!"

"It's so easy to get him off your lease. You just have to fill out a form. It takes two minutes!"

"Can I fill out a roommate release form on Monday?"

I thought I had won when she sat in silence for a moment. "If he's vacated," she worked out.

"BUT HE DOESN'T LIVE HERE! THERE'S NOTHING TO VACATE!" Gaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!

I slowly went from anger to defeat. It was just too much and I was having the most ridiculous fight in the history of apartment renting. My chin sank to my chest and I began to cry. She became wide-eyed with sheer horror at my display of any emotion. "Why are you trying to take away my independence?" I cried. "It's my apartment in the city and I don't want a boy's name on my lease. It's my apartment. Why are you taking that away from me?"

"We're not," she stated unsympathetically. "Why don't you go back to your apartment and call Scott and work out what you need to to get him on the lease." She just wanted the crying girl out of her leasing office.

I called Scott at work sobbing uncontrollably. He immediately left work and tried his hand at yelling at the horrible woman. But of course the person with possession of the keys to the new apartment has all power. He signed the papers.

The leak; the new, larger one-bedroom; Scott being forced on the lease--I was tired of arguing with what seemed like the stars aligning. Neither one of use spoke a word, but we both knew that him moving in was graduating from eventually to imminently.