A Fun Family Outing

We needed a family outing. At least we thought we needed a family outing. Was this the family outing we needed? Maybe not. But just between us, it's the eldest's fault. We got so swept up in his enthusiasm. His overall glee was contagious. It was the email that started it, at least the parts he decided to share. The email from his current apartment manager said there was a two-bedroom apartment available on Overland Ave, managed by the same big company that manages his current building. But why, why, why would we leave the calmness of Sherman Oaks to travel to Overland Ave, a hectic freeway of traffic and noise in Palms? I'll tell you why. Because the sons have decided to live together, which involves them actually finding a place to live, with maybe an assist from their mother, the Enabler.

So over the hill we went, with hubby at the wheel. "You don't want to live on this street," he said, driving up and down Overland  in search of an elusive parking spot. He went on to further condemn the property in question and utter many bad, bad words. "Look! Guest Parking!" the eldest yelled. Hubby pulled into a hellish place only suitable for your worst enemies. There were no spots there, either. He double-parked and invited us to get out of the car and go look at the two-bedroom without him. Imagine our surprise when we discovered that the website depiction of this large apartment complex was seriously misleading. The paradise with the pools and the Zen garden and the great fitness center was in reality a rundown spread under repair.

I won't burden you with the awfulness of the apartment that David, the assistant manager, took us to see, an empty one-bedroom that was just like the two-bedroom that would be available at the end of August. "Just picture another bedroom on the other side of the living room," he said, "and that's what it looks like." As we scrambled to leave the premises, David told us about a two-bedroom unit with a great view that would soon be available, too, right next to Susan, the building supervisor, "but she's a little picky about who lives next door." Sounds perfect unless you tend to break a few rules now and then. I refer you to my sons.

On the way home, I looked at the eldest, lovingly. "Can you read me the email your manager sent you about this sh*thole?" He read it out loud, leaving the best part for last. "... By the way," his current manager said, "Susan, the building supervisor, thinks I'm a blithering idiot." "So we just shlepped to a place where if you'd mentioned your current manager as a recommendation, it would've worked against you?" "What's your point, Mom?" "That."