Going to look at a place in Kaslo. House. Only it's not a house, as the advert suggested, implied that it was, "home", it's not, it's a sawed off trailer filled with despair, in a trailer park a few blocks from the main street, trailer park, that overlooked neighborhood of Kaslo that I've never explored, the owner, a 60-odd hippy, her partner, meet me at the hotel, drive out to the location, this is the reason there weren't any photo's provided...
It's fucking awful. I mean a hole, dark, dingy, terribly furnished, good, maybe, if you were working above the Arctic Circle and dealing with chest-bursting aliens, but it's not cutting it. It's the kind of place you imagine when you hear of a woman being rescued by a SWAT team from a serial killers tortuous depredations, you picture, first off upon entering, a group of Gestapo staring down laser-scopes filling the trailer, to rescue a couple of girls chained to the wall...l can'd do it, not even at the bargain price she's asking, I'd pay more, but I want more, anything, a tarpaper shack with a wood-burning stove would be an improvement, but this, This, well...I'm better off sleeping in a tent on the lawn...
She thinks it's good, is glad that I showed up to view it, it's been discouraging how many people have called about it and missed the preview, she's eager to sign the paperwork, go to the credit union, get a rental agreement, I'm not so eager, fuck this, I can live in my tent all summer, doesn't matter where, but this, this fucking trailer, I'd sooner move back to Alberta, and I kindly defer signing papers until I've looked at a few other places...