Chapter Two: The Exorcism (May 29th)

Arriving at home at around 3pm, I "sprang into action" (using a term my youngest nephew loves to use). I called Joe to let him know that I was running late due to the closing, and was on my way out the door to Enterprise (fine people to rent a car from) and would be around to pick him up within 15 minutes. Only Joe wasn't at home. I reached him on his mobile phone - he was hurling southbound down Marine Drive on the 151 (a little local humor here - the 151 is the slowest and most local busses around.)

Now normally this wouldn't bother me - after all, why shouldn't he be shopping? However, since he'd offered to help me clean, of his own volition, and since we'd talked about me picking him up sometime in the middle of the afternoon just the day before, this kind of threw me for a loop. Somehow I managed to keep my cool - after all, this wasn't his move or his apartment, right? I'm not sure when he was planning to come by, but he asked me if I wasn't sure I needed help cleaning. With no telephone in the Condo, I had no way of keeping up with him. I was also trying to keep myself from freaking out about the next day's move. So I let him off the hook and ran to get the car.

Getting the rental was a non-event. I packed it with all the cleaning equipment I had (lots of beach - I ::heart:: bleach) and raced off to the Condo. Opening my doors with the key for the first time was kind of a thrill, I was filled with pride and happiness and ready to "spring into action" when the smell hit me - wet dog and cigarettes. Now, I love dogs - LOVE them. I had a dog in my life every single day of it for 25 years. However, I always kept my dogs bathed and brushed, and with few exceptions, we always had short haired dogs.

The dog in this case, was really, really stinky. I mean overpoweringly so. Bad breath, bad skin, nasty, nasty dog. And the NFO (if you haven't read chapter one, that stands for "Now Former Owner".) was a chain smoker. In fact, I think he smoked in his sleep. I had to do everything in my power to get that dog smell out.

Now Dr. B, good friend that she is, wasn't going to be there with the vacuum - the kind with a zillion attachments - for about an hour, so I got to work on the windows. A word about the thrill of washing these particular windows. They are the kind they advertise on TV - they flip inward so you can wash the outside. I washed the inside of the living room windows, getting all the tar of 4 years of the NFO's regime off the windows. This used about. a roll of paper towels to clean the inside of 5 windows.

Then I set off to wash the outside of the windows, only to find that I had absolutely no idea how to get the windows to flip. I tried and tried and tried, just like the Little Train, but I couldn't get those windows to flip. An enormous pout appeared on my face - how could I clean the Condo and completely get rid of the NFO without cleaning the outside of the windows?

Luckily for progress, Dr. B, good friend that she is, arrived on the scene and chastised me for washing the windows. We had bigger jobs ahead. Indeed we did. We had to go to the Target Boutique to purchase MORE cleaning supplies! Thank goodness that Dr. B, good friend that she is, knew where the Boutique is, because I don't know my way around the new neighborhood yet.

This trip is largely uninteresting, except for the enormous pang of hunger I got as we were checking out. I realized it had been 24 hours since I last attempted to feed myself (imagine ME forgetting to eat!) and my body was demanding sustenance right NOW. It was getting to be about 6 pm, and we had much work to do in the meantime. This lead to the embarrassing decision to order Thai in - as in have it delivered. Said Thai restaurant is directly across the street from where I live. We didn't want to waste any more time, you see. So we phoned the order in on the telephone that was still connected in the NFO's name (I didn't realize this earlier) and began to clean.

Dr. B, good friend that she is, started off cleaning the fridge, while I tackled vacuuming dog hair from every possible crevice in the Condo, opening the windows in every room as wide as they could as I passed them. The smell was really bad!

As we were cleaning, waiting for dinner, the NFO arrived at the scene. Boy was I happy to see him! After greeting him, I got him to show me how to flip the windows. It was all I could do not to flip them all out and wash the outside, but I thought Dr. B., good friend that she is, would probably smack me, and I wanted to avoid that. He'd come to have a drink with a friend before going of to his new home in the suburbs, and sat down on MY floor and he... he... lit up a .. cigarette! I started to sweat profusely, despite
the 50 degree day. How could he smoke in the Condo? It was MY Condo now, but I guess old habits are hard to break. He must have seen the anxiety produced by his smoking, as he sheepishly extinguished the offending thing (IN MY SINK!!) and apologized for smoking in my new home. He left soon after that, thank goodness.

When the food arrived, we set out to eat in the living room on the floor. I unpacked everything, set out paper plates and paper towels and was ready to suck down every morsel of food not touched by Dr. B., good friend that she is. The only thing missing was the forks, chopsticks, anything that could be used to shove food into my gaping hole. Of course I had none in the Condo, because all of my stuff was still in the apartment. Across the street I had to go after all, to ask for utensils. The guys at the restaurant found this to be really funny. I know this because they openly laughed at me, standing there in bleach stained clothes, stinking like cigarettes and wet dog.

After dinner, we spent the rest of the evening cleaning. We cleaned the walls, we cleaned the cabinets, the appliances, the ceiling fans, Dr. B, good friend that she is, even cleaned out the toilet. Now come on, how could I not write "good friend that she is" after her name every single time after she'd cleaned out the toilet???

I washed the floors just before leaving, and wished I could keep the windows open all night. Although I was pretty sure the place already smelled like a mixture of bleach and oil soap (wood floors, don'tcha know), I was really upset about the smell and the thought of my home stinking.

The last night in the apartment wasn't very exciting or meaningful. I came home, showered and fell asleep.