So, to support my artistic inclinations, I moonlight as a property manager for some buildings in Hollywood.
It’s flexible, part-time, good pay, the buildings are pretty much within walking distance, and as always in Los Angeles, you meet some pretty interesting people and/or have some pretty interesting situations/epiphanies that always seem to arise from time to time.
Like today, for instance.
So, I had this woman/mother and her daughter AND son, David, come to the building looking to rent a single unit. I assumed - having talked to her many times on the phone that it was for her — when in essence it was really for her son, and he alone.
My first thought — always having to be on my toes as to spot what *could* be a weird vibe/person/situation — was…why is this mom and daughter doing all the talking for her son in regards to the apartment?
Who knows. Maybe he’s just shy…?
A few moments pass, and I realize that he is partially mentally challenged, perhaps autistic — really sweet guy. But sort of a curveball I didn’t see coming. Okay, cool — let’s see what he’s about.
Which immediately set off a whole FLOOD of thoughts going through my head, while trying to describe the unit/perks/utilities/etc. I was observing this ’situation’ of sorts, and how sweet they all were with each other, in trying to make what could be an odd situation quite palatable and smooth….?
So…
A. I assume he’s embarrassed that he has to be assisted with his apartment hunting, which explains his understandably shy demeanor…he seems to be cognitively aware of everything, but not able to communicate as efficiently as his family members/you/me/others can…? Which made me feel even worse.
B. They had obviously dealt with people who were hesitant to rent to someone like her son. I sensed they had been through this many times this past week. Which brought up a whole *other* layer of emotion.
C. I had unfortunately rented the unit out, the one that I was showing them, but had another unit ready for rent on the 15th, so I wanted to show them this vacant one to give them a vibe of what it would look like, so they could plan ahead for the 15th. I was concerned that they may have felt I wasn’t being truthful with them at first, as I’m sure they may have heard many excuses and/or received the run around from many people thus far…Now, I feel even worse.
Plus, she said they were looking for something immediate, as she and her daughter needed to return home, and - I assume - back to their respective dwellings, as they had obviously taken time out from their lives/travelled from diff. States/etc. in order to assist Jon.
This all happened so fast — my mind felt like a computer being unfairly taxed in trying to process multiple, large files, all at once.
Fuck.
So what do I do, you ask?
Well, I first start by trying to make Jon feel as comfortable as possible — checking in with him, looking him in the eye, shaking his hand, showing him around the place, asking him some questions and answering his. Just treating him as I would treat anyone normally, which made him really perk up and be responsive/sweet in his replies — I think he definitely appreciated it.
Which again bummed me out, because based on his reaction, I got a strong sense that this type of interaction — on a sort of, ‘peer-to-peer’ level — doesn’t happen quite often in his daily life, let alone in his recent apartment search.
So, while making a concerted effort to check in with him, I was also wary of not overdoing it as well — I just wanted to make him feel comfortable, as he obviously seemed shy and embarrassed of sorts.
I tried to ease his insecurities/uncomfortability, and perhaps attempted to pacify my own…I think it went well, and if nothing less, I think we connected a bit, if only for a brief moment or two. I let them know that if the unit becomes available earlier then the 15th, that I would get back to them.
*sigh*
This all happened so fast — I’ve continually found myself coming back to/toiling with this experience all day now.
Why *wouldn’t* I rent to a mentally challenged/autistic adult?
He seemed pretty with it, sweet, dependable…What *would* preclude me from doing so?
Would he be more of a handful then my other tenants?
Perhaps. I couldn’t imagine how though.
Something in me was itching to make sense of these contradictory feelings I was struggling with — I just couldn’t figure out why.
Perhaps it’s due to my recent birthday this past Monday — the date of which I share with my mentally challenged cousin, David, who I barely know, yet should know better, and didn’t realize the simple severity of that sad statement until just typing this.
Odd.
I then became overwhelmed with a wave of guilt/sadness/gratefulness — all in the same moment.
How easy it is to take life for granted, and want/wish/desire more then what we have all the time, as if what we ‘have’ isn’t what we ‘deserve’.
Gross.
Even the idea of *being* grateful — I dunno — it seems somewhat selfish to even pander to the idea of that notion, by using someone else’s tragic circumstances to revel in what is not, yet could be…? ‘IM not mentally challenged, I should be grateful for that!’
Double Gross — Meet Guilt.
Jon just wants to be accepted — find a small place to call home — albeit with a condition beyond his control, that I’m sure often precludes most people from giving him that very chance to be/do just that.
My head’s in a fog — I’m not trying to over think it, but it’s really kind of messin’ with me.
Thinking about the type of discrimination/excuses/behavior he must deal with on a daily basis left me feeling soooo bummed.
So, I get back into my crib, and I check in with emails, Facebook, etc – and this is one of the first posts I see, about some really enthusiastic, sweet, hopeful autistic kid with a heart of gold.
Nuts.
Coincidence? Perhaps.
I think someone/something is telling me to get back in the service industry.
I have so much to learn.
Always.