The doorbell rings while Cathy is still at work. Landlady #2 brings her young neice over, possibly as backup. I am at once outnumbered and outSpanished. We sit down and discuss our options. It turns out that our 80-year-old Landlady (#1) has never officially "declared" the apartment and as such can't really afford to have me legally register myself somewhere that technically, by the government's silly standards, doesn't really exist. They will register me at the place where Landlady #1 lives. The Neice smiles at me but keeps her distance. She is definitely backup.
About kicking us out on our English-speaking backsides: the sweet Landlady #2 simply, cryptically, says "Oh, we like you guys so much."
I am immediately suspicious.
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