The broker told you to go to the apartment. He’d already given the key to somebody to take a look, but if you get there in time she’ll let you in.
“No.”
“Good God.”
Your ex-wife will be standing in the middle of the empty living room holding the key on its rubber band.
“You’re back?”
She’ll say, “I never left. I just…got into different stuff.”
You’ll make love on the living room floor. There’ll be a knock on the door.
“No,” your ex-wife will say.
The man with the long black ponytail will say, “Good God.”
Your ex-wife will ask him when he got back into town. You’ll recognize him from photos. He was her boyfriend right before you and she met.
“I never left,” he’ll say. “I mean I left. Physically. I went to Alaska. But my heart was always here.”
You, your ex-wife, and her ex-boyfriend will make love in one of the two bedrooms. The more spacious one. There’ll be a knock on the door.
“No,” you’ll say.
The girl you made love to on a soul-searching camping trip, the girl you never thought you’d see ever again will say, “Good God.”
Ask her if she’s always lived in this town.
“I feel like I have,” she’ll say. “Even though, and this is a more direct answer to your question, I’m from Philadelphia born and raised.”
You, your ex-wife, your ex-wife’s ex-boyfriend, and the girl you made love to on a soul-searching camping trip will make love in the second of the two bedrooms. The less spacious one, more of a walk-in closet really. It’s kind of ridiculous. There will be a knock on the door.
“No,” you, your ex-wife, your ex-wife’s ex-boyfriend, and the girl you made love to on a soul-searching camping trip will say.
The real estate broker will already be getting naked.
“Let’s do it in the eat-in kitchen. Totally redone,” he’ll say.
After making love, you, your ex-wife, your ex-wife’s ex-boyfriend, the girl you made love to on a soul-searching camping trip, and your real estate broker will agree to split the rent five ways and share chores and decorating duties for the most erotic and emotionally connected roommate situation to which you’ve ever been party. You’ll constantly argue over who gets the small bedroom, and how much rent its occupant should have to pay, until eventually the group sex isn’t enough and you all move out to find an apartment that isn’t some kind of joke. I mean come on. The window is smaller than the one in the bathroom.
Happy Apartment Tour Day!
