I knocked on the door loudly, instantly drawing the attention of everyone in the room. They looked up at me, frowning, but said nothing and returned to what they were doing.
I knocked again, harder this time, and all eyes again turned toward me.
I maintained a neutral expression and asked, "Excuse me, who do I speak to about renting a place?"
The men seemed uninterested. Those who were playing cards continued, and the others acted like they hadn't heard me. Finally, one man, who was sitting at the back with his feet propped up and picking his nose, gestured for me to approach him.
"Come here," he said.
I walked up to him, and before I could say a single word, he slapped a piece of paper in front of me. "Take a look. Once you've decided, let me know which one you want. But let me make this clear—decide carefully.
"Don't waste my time dragging me around just to say you don't like it! I don't have the patience to cater to you!"
I looked at the paper, which only listed the floor numbers and prices without any details about the size or condition of the units.
I was speechless. "What am I supposed to get from this? I don't even know the size or condition of the units."
He sneered. "Obviously, the more expensive, the better. If you have the money, rent the expensive ones. If you don't, then rent the cheaper ones. It's that simple. Why ask?"
"The more expensive it is, the better?"
I thought that it was complete nonsense.
Someone who didn't want to be in the sun might ironically choose the most expensive option, which often came with the sunniest large balcony.
Someone who didn't need a kitchen might end up with a room with the best kitchen but poor conditions elsewhere.
How could they let the customers choose the units based on this?
I could think of these issues even if I had never rented a place. What about someone who actually needed a place?
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: Riches in Disguise