Page 17 - jesse book

close to the East Side for Tink’s work.
After two weeks of scouring the internet, we had found a couple of places in Downtown Glendale, Koreatown, Frogtown, and Lincoln Heights. We had scheduled bookings to see all these places one Sunday, and then cleared all three of our various schedules. We were to meet at the first house in Downtown Glendale, at 7:30 am.
I had gotten there, for the first time in my entire life, 15 minutes early. Tink showed up 30 minutes late, again shocking to absolutely no one. All that was left was Jean. Tink and I waited in the cold, overcast day for about 30 minutes, now an hour after our original time, for her. Eventually we got a hold of her and much to her and our dismay, she was sick. She of course had no problem asking us to Facetime her in every location, or at least send pictures. Tink and I both reluctantly agreed. It was less that we were annoyed and more that we were worried that we might pick a place to live without having all tenants there.
The Glendale House was nice...enough. It laid on a cul-de-sac almost on top of the 134 freeway, which meant the ever present rush of cars and inevitable construction was something to expect. The inside, however, had nice hardwood floors and a really lovely hutch inlaid into the wall of the main entryway.
“I’m gonna production deisgn the fuck out of that hutch,” Tink said, getting her hopes up.
From the hutch on, Tink had a sweet spot for this house, however,
I was more holistic (read negative). For me, the house had an odd layout. There were three bedrooms, and only one bathroom. One of the aforementioned bedrooms was a sunken one, a la the 70s living rooms, and someone would have to go through the only door and out another bedroom to get to the bathroom. I immediately said if we got the house, I wanted the sunken bedroom. Tink was happy I was thinking about trying for the house, even if hypothetical.
Although, despite the in house washer and dryer, something was irking me about the lower bedroom, and the placement of the bathroom. My mind, as it often does, ran rampant about hypothetical diarrhea dangers. What if I got horrible food