Jordan Shepherd wakes up to another perfect day in Squamish in the year 2075.
He rolls out of bed, but before he has a chance to gaze out the window of his 70-storey high-rise and catch a glimpse of the Amazon Chief way down at the base of his condo tower, he’s greeted by a young gentleman who hands him a triple-shot, double-whipped kombucha French vanilla latte.
Perfect timing.
“Thanks Juan,” says Shepherd.
“It’s actually John,” the man, who is in his 20s, replies.
“Um. Right. Sorry,” says Shepherd, who takes a sip of his drink and waves him off.
It tastes perfect.
This one learns fast. Shepherd decides that he will renew the man’s one-week lease on Friday.
He furrows his brow. But perhaps he will renegotiate the terms of Juan’s — whoops, John’s — indentured servitude. Shepherd thinks perhaps it would be best to redivide the man’s hours.
Sixty of John’s hours should go to manning the espresso machine. His talent is too good to waste out in the kombucha farms of the Upper Squamish Crater.
Shepherd nods to himself in agreement. More than fair. Indentured servitude is the most humane out of the Alternative Rental Payment Options available to tenants. Those who can’t afford the $60,000 USD per month rent have poorer choices.
One involves limb processing payments. Typically an arm covers two months. A leg covers one, perhaps one-and-a-quarter if it’s of exceptional quality.
But Shepherd is forward-thinking. A good indentured servant can net far more than $180,000 over a lifetime. Why waste talent for an immediate, but short-term gain?
The tricky part, however, is picking the right people — selecting a good house tenant is an art.
But it all boils down to a simple thing.
Figuring out the ‘mileage on a bro,’ Shepherd likes to call it.
Shepherd would say it’s his gift. He can look at tenants — any tenant — and know just right then and there how much they can put up with before going insane.
Shepherd looks at the young man in the kitchen who’s busy churning more almond milk for his pet black bear.
“It’s so beautiful here,” John murmurs, his eyes glazed over. “Maybe if I’m good today, master will let me go climbing. Or kiteboarding. Or mountain biking.”
Shepherd sips his drink.
This one’s got five years before he’ll try escaping to the Free Republic of Pemberton.
