Saturday.
A little nuclear family - a unit of four - was being shown one of the apartments behind mine. Dad was trying very hard to pay attention to the blither being pitched by the guy showing them the apartment; a fifty-year old ex-surfer dude who was wearing shorts, had blondish-gray hair and a tanned, lean body. He looked like he lives in a tanning booth. He seemed very intense, and slightly annoyed. He must want to be in Colorado.
Dad, on the other hand, was moving about uncomfortably. He appeared awkward in his sandles and shorts as the little group viewed the back porch. He seemed uncomfortable in his role, hesitant and uncertain as he stepped back into the apartment behind everyone else, pretending to listen to the conversation while fiddling dumbly with the storm door latch behind him. His every movement seemed unfinished, his hands - held behind his back - fidgeted continuously.
However, Dad's son was a thing of beauty to behold. He had long black hair, aquiline features, and his eyes were dark sparkling pools adorned with unfairly thick, long lashes. He seemed a little lost, but not uncomfortable like his father; the freshman's awkwardness was borne of his youthful innocence, he had not yet learned the aging reluctance of his Dad.
The boy appears to be just leaving high school, and I assume he is a freshman at one of the dozen or so colleges around here. The parents were looking at places for their child, and it might have been the daughter - who appears the same age as the boy - who is the freshman. But, if it is the boy, and if that is the chosen apartment, I will note it well.