I've been pondering it for some time. There's something about our landlady, I couldn't put a finger on it till now.
She's the innkeeper from Muppet's Treasure Island, and in more ways than one.
She talks out of the corner of her mouth, and through her teeth, which are similar to those of the R.O.U.S's in Princess Bride. she snarls everything she says and I could swear she sometimes chomps at the air to emphasize her point.
As we found out a week ago, she has that all-seeing-eye attribute as well, where she somehow knows when something is amiss and is on the scene in a flash. She may rely on her mangy Chichua-something to sense this for her, but she was on the scene to police the comings and goings of our apartment. and made it very clear that they are in the business of renting apartments, not being personable to tenants. We (Robbie, Glade and I) were too taken aback, and in terror of having our ears boxed, that we had to lie to her when she inquired as to the number of tenants in Apt. #8, we told her 3 and she was livid. imagine if we'd named off the 5 of us. She waddled past us with disgust (on our part as well) and made sure we knew who we were talking to. She has since assaulted me with double edged razor, and laser-beam glares in the hallway, despite my attempts at cordiality. She continues to watch us from her living room window, to be sure that no more than two (2) tenants are entering the premises. I know the Innkeeper had more of an "All-hearing-ear" thing...so we'll say that’s how she does it.
Not only that (though its plenty enough), she's also got that weathered, feathered look to her. her nicotine blonde hair seems barely rooted to her blotted scalp, more like salvaged stray hairs from a brush held on by static electricity alone, although she's not even balding. She has a dry and leathery complexion, beady eyes and a resident furrowed brow. Her breasts make up the majority of her torso. I think this may very well be the reason behind her disgruntled composure.. If I had to lug 2 gallon jugs around on my chest all day it would get to me, too. She waddles (given, I've only encountered her on the stairs) and huffs. calling out to her precious wiener/taco bell dog hybrid, or else hunching over to grab it up and baby it down those two flights of stairs.
She really is psychotic. I heard her talking about "number 4" in the parking lot the other night (while her dog shat by the side of the building) walking around the building looking for signs of life through their windows, and saying how she was certain they had music playing, she was definitely bothered that they had "lights on at this hour" (2 AM) her husband seems pretty calloused to it, but even he seems eccentric.
I'll be glad to be shed of them.