Manager on site

I was assigned a chore from the honeymooning couple. They needed an apartment in Florida where Matt will be interning for a District Attorney for 6 weeks. We had all assumed that when the snow birds returned North in the hot Florida summer months, there would be oodles of cheap apartments waiting eagerly to be sublet, but Matt had not found any and was beginning to worry.

I told my son I was delighted to help. I have become an intimate friend of Craig's List as a result, and could tell you the names of all the major realtors in Broward county. I also can tell you that sublet apartments in the better sections of Fort Lauderdale do not come cheaply. Furthermore, there are alot of sinkhole dwellings that I would not let my pet rat (if I had one) live in.

I became very excited about an apartment I found for them on the beach, in the safe area, a mile from his job, and even negotiated a price within their budget. Then I sent them the info.  I warned them to check reviews on the place before they put down a deposit. Job well done, I rubbed my hands together, and decided to check the reviews myself. There were pictures from just a week ago of a toilet with mysterious pink stains all over it, outlets hanging off the wall, and locks that didn't even keep the door closed, let alone safe.Other reviews listed drug deals going down in the apartment next to them. I hurriedly emailed my dear ones to not put a deposit on that ideal place. It wasn't as ideal as I had hoped. The manager called me, as I had unfortunately left a message when I thought this wasn't a place reserved for people who love bed bugs and scabies.
"Have you read the reviews and seen the pictures on Trip Advisor?" I asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Do they concern you?"
"OH, I have to go now. Let me call you back." Click.
Surprise, surprise...no call back!

Horrified, I checked the reviews on a second place I had recommended. That manager was due to call me back soon as well. Those reviews were not much better. That place had leaking water pipes that the manager refused to fix, dirty linens on the bed, and filth throughout. And all this could be secured for over a thousand a month! For an extra hundred, they would throw in some cockroaches. As I was emailing the happy honeymooners to scratch that one off their list, that manager called back.
I was blunt, "Have you read the reviews about your place?:
"Well no, not lately. But those are old reviews. The place has been renovated in the past few months."
"I don't think they were old reviews," I said politely.
"Honestly," he said, "I haven't been there since the renovations...."
He manages a place he hasn't seen in months?
"But," he continued, " I am pretty sure those are old reviews. I will look at them myself."
Meanwhile, he would gather recent photos and give me the bottom line fee for the 40 day stay.
I hung up. Within 2 minutes, the phone rang again, "Vicky? I just read the reviews. They are from last week. Don't stay there. In fact, I am quitting my job as manager."

I did finally find them a very small studio apartment that still looks good upon closer inspection and another place that is a little further than they would like but was recommended by a friend of a friend of a friend who had stayed there.The owners of both options are willing to let them stay for a trial period so all has ended well.

In the midst of sifting through slums , I took my old friends Comer and Evelyn out for a drive. I picked them up from the Memory Care Senior Center. Evelyn has stopped wearing her wig and she went a little wild this day on her rouge application. She looked at me as though this time, she didn't know who I was.Sometimes she seems to know me, but not this time. I am not hurt by the lack of recognition. I find it challenging to see if each time she sees me, I can be pleasant enough that she will like me as a new friend. It is a good way to practice social grace over and over again.

However, each time I see her, I proceed on the assumption that she does remember me and I converse happily about my life as though she could rip open the shroud of Alzheimers.
"The wedding of my son was beautiful. You should have seen the bride! She wore a one shoulder dress with a beautiful long train!"
"Oh my," said Evelyn, "That must be lovely."
"Oh it was!" I said, "Do you remember what you wore at your wedding?"
"No," she said.
"I'm sure it was lovely too. Shall we go out for fried chicken?" I asked.
"We just ate," said Comer.
"Yes, fried chicken, " said Evelyn, her brightly rouged cheeks lifting with her smile.
Comer shrugged.
So we went out for fried chicken, and drove to see mansions while munching extra crispy drumsticks. The mansions were a sharp contrast to the web pictures of the apartments I had been prowling through on Craig's list. They were happy just to be out of the home, feeling the sunshine across their cheeks, munching junk food. It struck me again how little they really wanted out of life. They were content to just be able to hold each other's hand, sing along with music from an era that somehow still lived for them, and eat food that the doctor strongly discouraged.

What a day of contrasts! The new, smooth cheeked couple starting out, wide eyed and hopeful searching for their first small home together..... the old, rouge cheeked couple with cataracts, settled in the last home they would ever know together this side of heaven. One honeymooning at a resort with all the sumptuous food and drink they could want at their beck and call, the other relishing extra crispy fried chicken balanced on their laps, looking at mansions from afar. One looking ahead to a life of promise and hope; the other looking back to a life they were having trouble remembering.
"Is it ok if I thank God for the food?" I asked Comer and Evelyn as we opened our boxes of cholesterol laden delight.
"Please do!" said Comer, "I pray hundreds of times a day."

Well that is one thing the new couple and the old couple share, I thought, the one thing that I know is never in short supply, never gets bad reviews, and the manager is always on site.

Psalm 119:115-117

¹¹⁵ Away from me, you evildoers,
   that I may keep the commands of my God!
¹¹⁶ Sustain me, my God, according to your promise, and I will live;
   do not let my hopes be dashed.
¹¹⁷ Uphold me, and I will be delivered;
   I will always have regard for your decrees.

Dubious Choices

Helping book the honeymoon is risky business. We knew owning a timeshare had future benefits and that manifested itself when Matt announced he wanted to honeymoon somewhere outside the safety of the land of the free. We could trade our highly desirable summer week in Hilton Head and send Matt and Karissa anywhere in the world. All we'd need is airfare.

"Is Cancun safe?" I asked my travel adviser, as the top picks of the happy couple were mostly in Cancun.
"Safe.... as in how do you mean safe?" he asked.
I paused. This was already not quite the answer I was going for.
He continued, "Oh you mean that unfortunate incident."
"Yes," I said, having no idea what that "unfortunate" incident was.
"That was an example of being in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, "If your honeymooners stay in the right place at the right time, they should be fine."
"Well, that is what I want to know. Is Cancun the right place at the right time?"
"We have no travel restrictions from the State department," he answered.
Why did I get an uncomfortable feeling he was hedging?
"If they stay in the resorts, they will be fine," he offered in the silence.
"And if not?"
"They should definitely avoid the border towns," he said, "And going out of the resort alone like in that unfortunate incident."
I just could not bear to ask about the unfortunate incident.
"Can you see if we can find a match for them from their top 6 list?" I asked, moving on.
"Now they should not go to Jamaica," he continued. (This was not on their list. He just seemed fixated on avoiding future unfortunate incidents.)
"Nor Aruba except in a few specific resorts. And of course you know that Iran might be wise to avoid til that nuclear reactor dust settles."
"I hear parts of Afghanistan are lovely," I egged him on.
"I can't tell you much about the resorts there," he admitted, "Our members have not requested that often."
"Back to their top 6 list," I suggested.
"Well, hahahahahah, oh forgive me. Are you a millionaire?"
"Why?"
"Well number one is nice, quite nice in fact. This is where the King of Jordan stays when he vacations."
"Oh, you mean it is not just an even trade for our Hilton Head week?"
There was a polite chuckling of mirth, and then he explained about the "all inclusive" trap. This means many of the better resorts add on a fee that is mandatory, but will then cover all drinks and food and some activities as well. For our frugal couple, the fee at their #1 choice was $1800 a day. Yes, I kid you not.... a day. Please understand, Matt and Karissa had no idea what the fee was or even that there was a fee. All they knew was that choice #1 looked nice. I guess they were right.
"Move on to choice #2," I choked.
"Oh, this is also a very nice choice," he said, "But it is never available."
"Why is it in the magazine then?" I asked.
"To lure innocent suckers like you to buy timeshares," he answered, or would have anyway if he were honest. Instead he said that about every 10 years one unit becomes available.
"I don't think they want to wait 10 years for their honeymoon," I said.
"Oh of course, i can understand that! I was young once," he said.
"Can we move onto choice #3?" I begged before I was treated to the impending discussion of his once youthful love.
There was again a disturbing pause.
"Well," he drawled finally,"This is a good choice if they want to pack light."
"What do you mean?"
"Are they aware clothes are optional at this resort?", then he quickly calculated that it was conceivable we were "that kind" of people, and backpedalled.
"I mean, many folks like this atmosphere, but I might worry that on a honeymoon it could cause fights. Hey hubby, why are you looking at those silicon inflated....."
"CAN WE MOVE ON TO CHOICE #4 PLEASE?"

You get the drift. Choice #5 was available, affordable, and "should be" safe. We put that one on hold.

Maybe choices are not a good thing. This of course will start my father on his discussion that " so called" "free will" is a crock. If an all knowing all loving God predestines and already knows what you will choose before you choose it, how can it be "free will"? I would love to be able to argue this concept and settle it right here and now, but I am still trying to wrap my brain around what is the best honeymoon choice on our budget that will not lead to unfortunate incidents.

But that is not a bad illustration of free will. I may know what my son will choose, because I raised him and I know he doesn't want to suck our generosity dry, as then he would have to support us in our old age. I know he wants to keep himself and his bride safe from unfortunate incidents. I could force a choice on them, and say take it or leave it, but like God, I won't. I will give them the freedom to choose, and hope they are wise in the exercise of that freedom. Of course the choices that God sets before us have eternal consequence, and are of much more import than where we should honeymoon. He could force us to believe in Him, obey Him, love Him.... but instead He lets us choose. He longs for us to choose Him, but to His infinite grief, many times we do not. I think His greatest sacrifice is letting us walk away, especially when He already knows whether we intend to walk back or not.

But I am not God, and like it or not, my beloved son and prospective new daughter will not be going anywhere that requires barbed wire around their bungalow, or mine sweeping before breakfast.

Joshua 24:15 (New International Version)

¹⁵ But if serving the LORD seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the LORD."