Yet Another "Small Austin" Moment

Get this!

So things thaw out a little and we go to meet our prospective new landlord at Texas French Bread to sign the lease on the cute wee housey, which by the way I have not posted a picture of because somebody left the digital camera at his brother's house after the Elvis' birthday party I did not go to.

The landlord is a really, really nice man, extremely affable and funny. When we arrive, he's there talking to a couple of other people around his age (somewhere in the late 50s, I guess), and introduces us to them, saying, "This man used to rent from me, and see, he survived!" We all laugh. "He's 19 years old!" the landlord adds.

Excellent!

Well, the other people leave, and we sit down to go over the lease and sign it and give him a check for the deposit, all the while chattering away amiably, and he asks for the names and ages of the children to note them down on the lease. I write them down for him, remarking that Eric and Katie have a different last name because they're from my first marriage.

He repeats their last name a couple of times, and says, "Who did I used to know by that name?" It's an unusual one; I've never known anyone else who had it. "My daughter, she's 37," he continues. "Seems like she knew someone by that name in high school, at Austin, or McCallum..."

Dingdingding! "My ex-husband went to McCallum!" I exclaim, and give his name.

"Yes, that sounds familiar," says our landlord. "What are his parents' names?"

I gave his mother's name. "And his father?" he asks.

"Edgar,"* I say.

His eyes light up. "Edgar!" he crows. "The alcoholic!"

Isn't that awesome? We haven't even moved in yet, and already we have totally bonded with the landlord.

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*If I gave his real name, one of these days someone who knows him would google on "(his name) the alcoholic" and there would be my blog, and we can't have that, can we?