My new landlord/caretaker people are the cutest little old couple ever. I’m glad they’re nice, because I know it sucks living in a building run by assholes, which seems to happen quite a bit. Lucky me.
The husband is one of those crabby old man who’s actually really nice on the inside types. I ran into him in the laundry room the other day, and he pointed out a poster that he’d put up around the building. It’s about a protest against a new tax that the city of London wants to charge apartment renters in order to help pay for damage and other costs that irresponsible students cause to the city. This tax is blatantly retarded, which I told him (in more politically correct words). He then told me about how all the damn university students were tearing these posters down, and how he doesn’t understand university students, and basically they are responsible for all the problems in the world.
I was like, yeah, damn university students. What the hell is wrong with them.
I guess I look old enough that I’d be unlikely to be a student. I didn’t have the heart (or balls) to tell him that I’m still in school myself. Now I feel like we have this rapport based on a mutual hatred of university students. I’M LIVING A LIE.
He later told me that he hates computers because he can’t figure them out, and prefers woodworking. He’s an old, old man.