We were greeted by a stooped over old man who owned the house. He apologized for not picking up the apples and walnuts off the lawn before we got there. It looked like he hadn't picked them up all year...why start now. If the cats feeding themselves buffet style out of the cat food bag on the porch wasn't an indicator of the state of the place, then maybe the two rusty trucks filled with an old mattress, wicker furniture, branches and unidentifiable junk parked on the far side of the lawn should have been. We walked through the gate to the backyard. Magic, the owner's black lab, greeted us. There was plenty more junk back here: old kids bikes - complete with cobwebs and dead leaves - tucked into the corner, a nasty mosquito breeding ground that he called a swimming pool, odd looking barrels, a broken swing set, and even more unidentifiable piles in what would be our front yard. The stooped old man told us proudly that he never walks his dog. He'd rather have Magic do his business in his own yard then on other people's. Gross.
The apartment was large There was a foyer, kitchen, 2 living rooms, 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, storage room, and a separate alcove for the washer and dryer. The carpet was old, stained, and mismatched. The walls needed repainting and the furniture should've been chopped up and used for firewood. The whole place seemed old and dark. We both didn't like it. The old man took us up to his part of the house. Is this where Good Will stores everything they don't want? We could have taken a shovel to the living room and filled up another truck bed of junk! There was a small pathway through the piles of stuff to the only two non-stuff-filled seat cushions of their couches. We sat down and listened to why they need the money (they are living off social security and have health problems) and I couldn't concentrate because of the stale smell mixed with old person. Andrew told him that we'd get back to him if we wanted it. We don't want it.
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