Real life | 16 August 2018

When I placed an advert for a lodger I really did expect potential tenants to want to come and see the room.

But of course, things have moved on. My theory about human beings is that they are evolving into emoticons. A lot of people now go into seismic avoidance when you try to get them to manifest themselves in 3D format.

I placed the ad on one of those spare-room websites and within minutes I was deluged by deeply earnest CVs from users with smiling headshot photos.

Firstly, these talking heads wanted to make clear that my newly renovated house looked stunning and they would absolutely love to live there. They then embarked on an account of their life and times.

They told me about their hopes and dreams, their ambitions for the future, what they had achieved so far, including any voluntary work, and how they saw their life panning out as they moved forward in their quest for inner fulfilment.

They told me their personal characteristics: neatness, quietness, respectfulness, thoughtfulness and so on. Personal manifestos led seamlessly to professional resumés, and in one case a lady told me about the inner workings of her job at the council’s child and family services.

Another told me about her career in ‘resilience’. (I always get mixed up between ‘resilience’ and ‘compliance’. I have a feeling ‘resilience’ is pretending we can survive the end of days and ‘compliance’ is fannying about with EU red tape.)

Someone from a housing authority messaged to say she had a client who was ideal for the room and who was ‘a quiet and humble man looking for somewhere to restart his life’. By which I presume she meant he was a psychopath fresh out of prison.

After the job and character expositions, they told me about their hobbies: swimming, tennis, walking, music, weightlifting.