The Band is so good. Wow. 

I'm at DIA. And feeling like a yuppie. I had no idea that flying standby enforces a dress code upon you. I'm surrounded by strangers who look a lot like people from Iowa, which is refreshing. 

Let's see if I can stay awake after two bloody mary's.

More later!

I had an interesting encounter with a prospective resident today. My boss, Deanna, was conveniently out of the office when he walked into my day. Usually I have to cut short any conversations of notable length, while still having to build the crucial rapport that is needed for a lease commitment (a sad, perplexing phenomenon). This is because she has mentioned to me, on several occasions, that I am not focusing on renting apartments, but am wasting time talking to people about trivial topics. She's caught me talking about law school, politics and (I think, but hopefully not) Girls Gone Wild. 

So, this gentlemen with a snaggle tooth strolls into the leasing office, looking like the equivalent of a bag lady, except he was definitely a man. A bag man. My desk was cluttered with four copies of each addendum and policy in our residential lease buffet. I was preparing four leases that would need to be signed within the upcoming week. I was bored and looking to stay efficient. I went through my usual introduction. He shook my hand and introduced himself as Tim. He was interested in a one bedroom apartment for March. I apologized for my messy desk. He replied with a laugh and some wild advice. 

"You should be an attorney," observed my snaggle toothed friend, Tim. 

I laughed and made eye contact with my associate, Natalia, who was sitting across the room at her relatively clean desk. She laughed and said, "wow, that's funny."

Since working at The Covington, I had spent the first two months studying and taking night classes to prepare for the law school admissions test. I put forth a lot of effort trying to make myself look like I wasn't suffering at work when faced with a three hour lecture on logic games and formal logic deductions after our day was over. I failed. By the third week I had let everyone know how miserable I was feeling having to attend class after work, and having the pressure of fulfilling the arduous task of leasing apartments from 8:45 to 6:00 everyday at a new property. I forgot to perform simple duties, like having people pay for rent before I gave them keys to move in and having Deanna approve applications before leases were signed. This would continue until January. 

When it was all said and done, I had passed the LSAT with a 154. I was finally moved into a respectable percentile, the 60th. This was a huge boost of confidence for me. The previous year I had scored so poorly, I was embarrassed to share the score with my closest friends and family. I was in such a low percentile that I wouldn't be accepted to some of the worst law schools in the country. Granted, I put myself through an awful preparation plan. I was working, going to school and partying. Not a great idea for any LSAT takers. 

So, when Tim entered my realm randomly seeking residence at my property and suggested that I should be an attorney, although meant as a pun to imply that I appeared to be just as messy, busy or as disorganized as a lawyer, I have to admit that I was flattered. It turns out that Tim, now in his late 50's, had graduated with a degree in political science from St. Thomas in St. Paul, Minnesota; a fellow midwesterner. 

We sat at my desk for an hour discussing a range of trivial topics that could only be discussed so openly and without restraint on a day as fateful as today, when my boss wasn't micromanaging me. They were as follows and in no specific order: Herbert Humphrey's loss to Nixon in '68, Mayor Daly's role in the Chicago convention riots, Saudi Arabia's need for modernization, the impact of illiteracy in the Islamic population, the ripple effect of Roe v. Wade (THIS ONE BLEW MY MIND), the church of Obama, distrusting the media, John McCain's behind-the-scenes blaming of Palin for the loss. We talked about the governments intervention in the banking industry, the nationalization of loaning institutions and how he used to lease heavy machinery to small businesses. He seemed to be the smartest man I had talked to in at least a week. I left our meeting impressed, but pretty convinced that I didn't want to end up looking like a bag man, or spending my retirement teaching leasing associates about the sixties, with a snaggle tooth. And that makes me feel kind of bad, having said that. But, he was a republican. 

It was a good way to spend my Monday morning. I don't think he's going to rent an apartment, though. And that kind of sucks.