I think it is interesting how people attempt to falsify their homes when company comes over. By falsify, I mean that what they present to the visitors is often a skewed sense of reality. No dust, the carpet is vacuumed, the radio is turned down, and often fights are kept to a minimum. Certain members of the house reserve the right to hide and not communicate with the visitors. The beatings will continue until morale improves.
My personal tactic when receiving visitors is to not cover any of the reality of my place of residence, which would be basic dishonesty. This means that I do not dust or vacuum, rather, I turn down the lights so that nobody will know the difference. Got dirty dishes in the sink? Provide enough distractions so that the dishes won’t be noticed. Dust is one thing, but dirty dishes is a problems seldom remedied by turned off or dimmed lighting. What usually serves as a distraction are the variables in my place that I cannot control – the walls, the carpet, the bagpipes playing upstairs. I live in a rented basement suite. There are upsides and down sides to such a residence. One of the down sides can be considered an upside depending upon how you look at it, and how you rank the detrimental/beneficial effects of it. The carpet in my place is not the most attractive that I have seen. Firmly entrenched in what I think is the 70’s, but could be the 60’s, my place boasts wall to wall wood paneling, and a shag rug (not in the British sense) that is more orange than brown (depending upon the level of the lighting). An optimist would call it “retro”. Thats the downside, the upside is that crumbs disappear into the carpets depths, likely where they provide sustenance for civilizations that I would rather remain ignorant about. When I vacuum, one cannot tell the difference after. If there was a readily apparent difference, I would likely vacuum more often. A tragedy for countless millions, to be sure.
Recently, while on a wild blue ride through the suburbs, I was reminded of exactly how much it sucks to look for a place to live. Not for everyone, to be sure. In fact, I have twice been involved in the process for others and it worked out very well, obviously because of my impeccable direction. However, this does not translate to when I am looking for a place. This has happened a lot, most of the time, with me just looking to improve on my current wood panneled, shaggy existence. I have found everything from pristine conditions, to dead mice in the sink. My personal favorite was the place in Langley a few years ago that had an interesting bathroom. A toilet, a sink, a window. Not everything you would want in a bathroom. I asked the person showing it to me what I was supposed to do about showering or bathing. A blank stare ensued. I guess I was supposed to just run through the sprinkler. OF course, I did wind up living in a place where you entered through the front door right into the….. bathroom. Don’t worry, I kept the lights off.