The thing is, I was distracted by his teeth. They were white, like white-white, he was smiling wide enough to show me the back molars and I was thinking how his job must have an amazing dental plan and I was wondering if I should check out the Eisley Gardens career page to see if they were hiring and so I only kind of heard the low drone of real estate jargon, “Blah blah locally sourced construction materials… blah blah cutting-edge advancement in the kitchen cabinetery industry… blah blah blah crafted to the finest specifications...”

I’ve never given that much thought to kitchen handle specifications, but I could tell this apartment was crafted to be fucking nice. The floorboards glowed, the countertops glistened, mile-high windows gave way to a view of the city that would make a photographer weep.

“Are you sure you’re showing me the right place?” I asked. “My budget is -”

“Here at Eisley Gardens, we believe people have more to offer than money,” He said, and I wondered how much of a man’s salary he could reasonably blow on Crest White Strips, “Everyone is expected to contribute to the community, but that contribution doesn’t always need to be monetary.”

“What does it need to be?”

“Many areas of the community are still under construction. Insulation in the upper floors, paving the front courtyard, that sort of thing. If you’re willing to contribute to ongoing projects, we’re in a position to negotiate on price. Just think. You could be living in this apartment tonight.”

And maybe I should have read more of the fine print before signing a contract, but the only other housing I could find near my price range was a house share with an eighty minute commute. One of my potential roommates made her living breeding cats in the backyard. This place is quiet, beautiful, two stops to work on an air conditioned train, and the only thing breeding out here was the yeast in my neighbor’s homemade organic blackberry kombucha.

My sister had a few questions like, “Isn’t expecting people to work in exchange for housing exploitative?” and “Isn’t that area supposed to be a city park?” and “Why can’t I find any information about this development online?” but the thing you’ve got to understand about her is she’s super judgmental about everything.

And the place was great. I could actually sleep without hearing my neighbor’s oboe recital through the wall and the bed was… I don’t even know what it was but I slept like the dead. It was a bit drafty without the insulation being done, but utilities are included so I just jacked up the heat like a winner. If company towns included underfloor heating, leather sofas, and ivory doorknobs those guys probably wouldn’t have complained so much.

I would have done a thousand weekends of community service to keep this place, but they didn’t call me up that weekend and I figured they were giving me some time to settle in. I wondered about it when I didn’t get a call the next week or the week after that, but no one posted an eviction notice.

I was a little bit worried when I woke up with my hair missing.

But the thing about that was it was only a little patch. I ran my hand through my hair that morning only to discover a circle of bare skin on the left side of my scalp. And the apartment did get warmer after that. They finished the insulation and sent me a card thanking me for my contribution even though, again, I did not pick up a set of tools that whole month. I thought about calling them to admit I hadn’t worked on it, but like my sister said, there’s no trace of the development online.

Maybe I should have put things together then, but seriously, who loses some hair in the night and thinks it’s being used for building insulation? That’s crazy. I’m not crazy, that’s crazy.

Only here’s the thing.

Today, I was helping customers at work, when my mouth was suddenly filled with blood. Which isn’t an ideal quality for the mouth of a customer service representative at Wholesale Mart to have, so my boss sent me home to sleep it off. And as I was taking those two stops on the train, I nudged the cotton wool aside with my tongue to find that I was missing two back molars. One on each side. It happened in a second, it didn’t even hurt, they were just gone.

When I got to my development, I noticed the front courtyard was finally paved over. I tried not to look down as I made my way to my front door, but the thing is I did and it was teeth. The whole damn courtyard was paved with tiny human teeth. They must have taken some from everyone in the building. I got into my front door and found the little card on the ground along with my junk mail and bank statements.

The front courtyard is now paved! Thank you for your contribution.

My sister's calling this whole situation "terrifying" and "a Faustian nightmare" and hounding me to find a new place. But this apartment is nice, especially with that new courtyard. They kind of did me a solid, really, because now I get a day off work. Two, if you count the day I’ll have to take off for the dental appointment. There’s no way I’m gonna find anything else in the area for this price, and it’s so nice. How much more development could it possibly need, right?

Right?