The Rented House That Wasn't

I was moderately unfazed when I got Franny's e-mail Monday morning. She and her pastor boy-friend have decided this isn't the house for them. She "hoped it would be ok" with me.

I suppose, it is not ok. We could have been advertising the home, screening potential renters instead of dealing with the flakes like this. I have to tell you though, I was always leery of the whole pastor thing.

No. This is not a commentary on pastors or religion. I can tell you my experience with those in the South professing a calling to preach about the Almighty has not been pleasant. Or even what I would refer to as no-brainer "Christian." I am sure there are some quality folks out there who practice what they, um... preach, but I haven't rented to them.

As much as I am trying to muster up the energy to be annoyed about Franny backing out, I simply just can't. I would rather have the vacant home under the circumstances. Franny didn't ask for her security deposit back, though I am sure she will. In the mean-time, it can just hang out in my bank account while Jack and I look for someone else to rent our home.