Today a stranger named Pauline dashed all my hopes and dreams.
The latest stop on the Apartment Safari was a **perfect** apartment in Toronto's Annex district. It was wonderfully styled, partially (yet wonderfully) furnished, close to transit, and up for a long-term sublet. Saturday afternoon Roomie and I stopped by this oh-so-lovely apartment, met it's current inhabitant Pauline (with whom we developed quite a rapport I had thought), looked around and fell in love with this adorable place and the idyllic circumstances surrounding it.
We answered questions, sent emails, impressed as best we knew how that we were the girls she wanted to live in her space. We left elated; she liked us, we liked her, all we had to do was wait until Monday for it all to come together.
By 4 o'clock this afternoon our hopes began to wane. An hour later doubts began to fester about Pauline and her apartment. By dinner time Roomie and I were full on cursing Pauline. After dinner talk produced plans that included egging the house, moving into the apartment regardless of whether Pauline called us or not, and using the power of Facebook to invite the whole of the city to a bash at the apartment just to get revenge.
By the time 9pm rolled around all that was left was disappointment at the fact that we didn't get the apartment, indignance at the sheer rudeness of Pauline's lack of communication, and these three words: Pauline, Suck it!