Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

So we got our house rented and we are peeing our pants with joy. And then….SSSCCCCRREEEEEEEEEEEECH!!!!!

No, not Dustin Diamond from Saved by the Bell. I mean screech like slamming on brakes when you are barreling down the highway. Shane gets a phone call from the dude side of our potential renters. For the record, there’s a dude and a chick. I know the blog title could have been misleading. Anyway. Dude calls and says that he was under duress when he signed the lease because he is bipolar and he felt like the chick talked him into renting. Huh? He keeps going on and on about his bipolar. Shane keeps saying, “You don’t have to tell me this. I don’t need to know all of this.” There’s not a place on the lease that says check this box if you are cracked in the gourd. Shane asks him if he has talked to the chick. He says no. No? No! You haven’t told the chick that you don’t want to rent, but you are calling to tell us?!?!?! What are we getting into here? Shane tells him to get it straight with the chick. Shane calls the chick and she doesn’t seem to be too worried. We seem to think that the chick is fairly reliable.

Days later we get a call from the dude (from chick’s phone) saying that all is well and that he just had cold feet. Dubbya. Tea. Eff?

Dear Dude,

Here are some plain and simple goals for you:

1. Rent my house.

2. Pay on time.

3. Don’t ruin the place.

4. Oh yeah, and take your meds when you are supposed to so that you can accomplish the aforementioned goals.

Thanks so much,

The Little Lady That Wants to Move Into Her New House