Close Encounters of a Baffling Kind

ur landlord seemed like a nice-enough guy in description. He had originally tried to dupe us in the rental contract two weeks ago, but we were able to talk him back down. A few days after we moved in he set up a meeting with us through the rental office. "A meeting? Why?" we asked, but of course our foreign words merely bounced off the rental agent's primped and preened form. So the next day we waited at our apartment. He was early.

"Call me Mr. Lee," he said to us in English. A pleasant surprise, this meeting could be conducted using words rather than with awkward hand signals and scrap paper. He was tall, lithe, and well dressed in a working man's sort of way. Polyester, that is. We made our introductions and then he set to work explaining two small pieces of information repeatedly for no less than three hours. We're working a split-shift at the moment, with some time in the middle of the day to nap, take a break, and maybe read a book. These hours are precious to us. When Mr. Lee coasted in to his 180th minute of nattering away in broken English, fidgeting with pipes, heaters and fixtures that (we thought we had communicated clearly) were fine, I thought I would die. Mercifully, the man finally left. Don't get me wrong, though, he seemed nice and all.

Over the past 10 days Mr. Lee has been back to our apartment several times. He comes here, yammers on about business that was taken care of days ago, stares at Sandr's tits, and then leaves. He is not insane, he is merely enragingly old. It started to become clear to us over the past couple of visits that he's been trying to endear himself to us.

Three days ago he came over with a checklist of items that we were to sign. He said, "You read and check. Full option, appliance, check. But I think you cannot read. In Korean." I grimaced.

"Would you like to come in and read it to us?" I asked. Sandr covered her chest and left. Lucky. Mr. Lee and I sat down to go through the new and unexplained contract. One of the clauses he explained clearly was that we were not to conduct business of any kind in our apartment. No lessons, no wallet factory, no distillery. He well knew that our Korean E-2 working visa does not allow for us to earn money outside of the company that sponsors us - to do so could mean instant deportation - so he wasn't surprised when I said, "of course not."

As soon as the contract was signed he began a frightening and awkward speech that lasted no less than forty minutes. It was on the subject of our relationship and how it should be. He mentioned he has a son and a daughter. They are our age, they would like to meet us. For lunch? Sure, I replied. Why not? The son has a car, he continued, and could drive us anywhere outside the city. They could take us on a trip, and Mr. Lee himself could join us. We must become very close, and have "positive relations." Next he explained that his son was to take an important English language ability test in a few months. He asked if we could give lessons to his son, here in the apartment that he was kindly renting to us. Mr. Lee continued, explaining that the lessons should be every day, but certainly only at a good price. I could barely stand at this point, my ears exhausted both from deciphering the English and the shock at what was being said.

And he continued:"My son has many friends. You can friends with them, and business partner." With a toothy nervous grin, he lowered his head and said, "My son will introduce you to many people. Korean high society!" At this point I could no longer hide my embarrassment for us both, and mustered the juice to usher him out the door before committing to anything.

Yesterday Mr. Lee came by again. He wants our email addresses and cell-phone numbers. He gave us a key to the roof of our building, seemingly in exchange. We had casually asked two weeks ago if the tenants had access, to suntan, relax, whatever. "Only two. One for you, nobody else. You must email to me if you go."

We're meeting his daughter on Thursday for lunch.


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(story here about an Irish-Canadian luthier I met yesterday...stay tuned.)