Monday, August 22, 2011

Unsolved Mysteries: Rockaway Beach Edition

So Rich, Todd and I were walking toward Rockaway Beach on Saturday. I spotted a condo building facing the water that was holding an open house, and managed to convince them to come with me - "see a beautiful apartment we can aspire to, it'll be chill" was how I sold it. But as you'll see, our experience was anything but chill...

We entered the building. A chipper young white guy gave me a folder and a form and asked me to fill in my information. A minute later, I handed the filled-in form back to him, assuming he'd now lead us upstairs. But instead I heard a voice cry out from the elevator bank. "I'll be taking you on the tour," it proclaimed.

I turned around and found myself staring at the rather voluminous silhouette of a Real Estate Broker. "Right this way, gentlemen," the Broker beckoned. The Broker, still shrouded in darkness, stuck out a brown hand and shook mine with the firmness you imagine Rick Perry shakes voters' hands with. "Strong handshake - I like that in a man," I thought. In the elevator, I admired the Broker's red polo shirt - a nice hue, one I had been looking for myself. When I looked closer at the polo, I noticed that the Broker had small breasts. "Man-Boobs. Poor guy," I said to myself.

Then the elevator opened and the Broker led us out. And right in front of me was what some in the African-American community refer to as a badonkadonk. "That ass - that's a woman's ass! Wait a second - were those Man-Boobs actually Regular Boobs?!" I asked a banal question about square footage just to hear more of the Broker's speech. "The D-Line units like this one are 1,147 square feet," the Broker replied. Damn it! The pitch of the voice was either low for a woman or high for a man!

As the Broker rattled off answers to questions I didn't care to know the answer to in the first place, I searched for any clues I could find. "The washer-dryer is in the unit" - let's see, the haircut is short and gelled - is that Dyke-y or Dorky?! "Roof access is ava
ilable until midnight" - what about those glasses - damn it, Unisex frames! "We allow subletters but right now we're 100% owner-occupied," - come on, shoes have got to give something away - nope, asexual cross-trainers.

It was hot and Rich and Todd were getting antsy when we got back in the elevator and the Broker asked me if I wanted to see another unit. "No," I replied, "but why don't I take a business card so I can call you to follow up." "My business card's stapled to the folder you got on the way in." "Great, thanks so much!" I exclaimed as we got to the lobby. I ran out into the fresh air, ripped the card off the folder and took a long, hard look. This is what I saw:

That's right - I was in a full-on It's Pat! situation. The last name, which in many cultures gives away gender, was no help either. In fact, I'm not sure what nationality the Broker was - I was convinced Indian at first but now who knows - Mexican? Pakistani?

This person is a total enigma, and it's eating me alive. All I do now is type "Alex Torryn" in Google and stare over and over at the results for some crumb of a hint. Here is some of Alex's internet presence:

Real Estate Agent Listing [the picture: Alex Torryn, Real Estate Professional in Queens, NY] profile [ the picture: ]

Rockaway Real Estate Agents listing - 75% of agents have pics []

Youtube listing [no face, no voice]



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