Fatale Abstraction

Almost Fame-Ass.

In a funny conversation with an apartment locator yesterday, I discovered I'm getting brutally frank in my old age. This post contains B-level celebrity gossip which is past its sell-by date.

In the industry, licensed real estate agents may refer potential clients for a fee, usually 50% to 100% of one month's rent if the client signs a one year lease. Most apartments which rely on locator referrals take this into account when setting prices. Personally, unless a person is moving to another city or has some extraordinary time constraint, I can't relate to the urge to have someone else ferret out an apartment home for me, but I suppose it takes all types.

Yesterday a locator, Jerry, called me up to find out about a space for a client moving from Seattle. He said she wanted to try to keep it under $2000 per month(!). I mentioned a particular unit, one which became available on the 3rd of this month. He said it sounded perfect and they'd like to make an appointment for Sunday. I said no one was available to show this Sunday, but that since the unit was empty and I know this locator, I'd leave it unlocked for them to access on the evening before they want to come by.

Jerry said this would be perfect, that the prospect specifically mentioned that she didn't want to meet any apartment personnel because a manager in her last apartment had fallen in love with her and was obsessing over her. She said 'you'll understand when you see me.'

After listening to him talk a couple minutes, I said 'Jerry, this is not even remotely a statement on my sexual orientation, but I can gurantee you that I will not fall in love with her if for no other reason than she sounds like a neurotic pain in the ass.' He laughed heartily.

We chatted and laughed about this for a bit, and then we started laughingly speculating that maybe she's a celebrity. Then Jerry went on to tell me about his brush with greatness.

He said some years back he got a call from someone who identified herself as Harry Connick Jr's assistant, and said Harry was looking for a loft in Dallas in a quiet area with low-key residents. Jerry knew the perfect spot, which was a building in which Don Henley kept a loft. Sounded ideal, right? Well, Jerry confirmed availability and called back the number the assistant had given him, and a man answered the phone. Jerry identified himself and said he had a great space which could work for Mr. Connick. Suddenly, the man(HC) started demanding to know who gave his number to Jerry and yelling that he was never to call that number again.

So, um, low-key? Maybe it was a prank by his assistant. Maybe he'd fired the assistant and they bandied HC's number about to folks she knew would return calls. In any case, his reaction was rather gauche. Frankly, even if my property were extremely high-flight, I wouldn't want the pain-in-the-ass factor of a celebrity presence on any level. That would detract from my luminary status, and I find the lighting not to my taste in the reflected glow.