At about 7pm I was taking an end-of-Shabbat nap (because I needed to rest up after the exertion of my earlier nap) and I was roused by the doorbell. It was a strawberry-blonde woman with a small child, who introduced herself by name, and, apologizing profusely, explained that she was interested in renting the place and that she'd misread the date on the owner's listing for last night's open house. She asked if it would be possible for her family to take a look, explaining that her husband, who was from Tanzania, was in the process of parking the car. I said sure.
A car pulled up to the curb and the visitor waved at an African man who was getting out of the car with the other child. I waved at him and said, "Karibu nyumbani!" (Welcome to my house.)
Well of course they both busted up, and I explained that I'm learning Swahili in advance of visiting Kenya and Uganda this October. I gave them an impromptu tour of the place. I haven't been super happy here, but that's simply because my needs are different, not because there's anything wrong with the place, so I gave it a glowing review.
And a month from now, I'll be getting settled in at my new place. Yay.