Pauline, a fairly nice and quite woman in nature, had Al and I questioning more than just the flat when we left. I don’t actually ever recall feeling this awkward with a landlord before. I left there thinking, WTF does she do with her free time?
After a simple question about the transportation options in the area, Pauline specifically explained that she worked late at a gentlemen’s club and sometimes needed to take the 69 bus home.


(No lie, this is the only bus in the area that ran all night). And she explained that this was the best bus to take home when she missed the last train of the night… I mean the tube… I mean… geeze, what other word for transportation can I use that doesn’t make this story sound sexual?
Seriously, I even regret asking if I could see the closet next to the bathroom. She totally put up her hand and said “oh yeah, that’s my closet.” Whoa whoa! Did she just give Al and I the hand? Like okay! It can’t be that messy. What the hell is she hiding in there? A whip? Some CooH Whip ? A black leather pair of pants and some five-inch heels?
Apparently that closet was for her “seasonal clothing.” What else do you say to that other than what I did, “Oh yeah, I figured.”
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