Thanks Mr. Obvious, you're a life saver

That little guy is the young raccoon that was hanging out in front of my rental office. The day before, he was sitting under the apple tree on the complex having a snack. I don't think he is doing all that well. He wasn't acting sick, but they are not normally out during the day. They are more of the nocturnal, scavenger type. Yet here he was, two days in a row, in plain sight.

Coons? When we got coons on the porch at home Momma would just run them off with a broom.

A few of the tenants were freaked out by him, but he didn't seem to mind. And since he didn't mind, neither did I.

Hey, Doctor Doolittle, enough with the nature crap. Get back to the tenant silliness.

Oh, right, sorry. Well, as long as we were talking about spiders last time...

I said enough with...

No, no, this is a tenant story. A tenant walked into my office with an inquisitive look on her face. She is a relatively new tenant, having lived in the complex only a few months. Overall, she is a nice lady, but leans towards the needy side. There always seems to be one issue or another. Plus, when she first came to look at the place she tried to haggle with me over the price. This annoyed me a little, but I can't fault her too much for trying. Then, when she came to sign her lease she tried to trick me into giving her the apartment cheaper by telling me I had said something that I hadn't. This pissed me off. I keep things professional for the most part, but I've never thought much of her since.

"I need your help and recommendation," she began, as she made herself comfy in one of the office chairs. "I saw a big spider sitting in the middle of my living room floor. What should I do about it."

Without saying a word, I leaned over, removed my shoe, and held it up.

She smiled and said, "No seriously."

"I am serious. That's what I do when I see one in my house," I said without a smile.

"Well, I killed it with a broom, because I didn't want to get close to it." She then launched into a long winded story, recalling the event play-by-play. I sat and listened to her, but I couldn't get past the thought: if the damn thing is already dead, then why are you telling me. In fact, even when she finally stopped talking, I still never figured out the answer to that question. As she was walking out the door, she said she was going to go to the store to find something that kills spiders. I made the facial expression equivalent of a sarcastic thumbs-up and shut the door. Sometimes I think people are just lonely, and I am the definition of a captive audience. Lucky me.