Tuesday’s child is full of grace

Monday night Mel was in bed at her new place when a man who she said had an Indian accent called and said that he'd like to see the room. Mel said that that was great and that if he called back tomorrow she will have talked to me to find out what time I would be around to meet him.
"Can you do that now?"
In Mel's head; "Grrr.”
Out loud; "Ok.”

On Tuesday afternoon there was loud knocking at the door. "Coming", I was just moving my laptop from the kitchen (where I could see my breath) into the heated living room to start to get my head around this Writers in Action class, and it needed to be plugged into the power immediately because the batteries effed and only lasts about three minutes. The knocking continued and became louder. "I'M COMING". When I opened the door I was abruptly told in an accent that I'm not sure was Indian "I'm Julio" and he walked into the house. I've never met an Indian guy named Julio. He began firing questions at me.
"How much is the rent?" Maybe he was Mexican?
"$193" a fortnight.”
"Not for the whole house, just the room.” Or Spanish?
"That is for the room.” I was feeling confused.
"How much is the bills?" Eastern European?
"We have gas, electricity and water, it depends on how much we use. I can show you some bills we've had.”
"Yes.”
I showed him the room that would never be his. I didn't bother asking him any questions or telling him anything that he didn't specifically ask for, there was no point. He'd get a message in about a week that we've decided to give the room to someone else. I just hoped that we would actually have found someone else.
I told him that I'd be in touch as he barged back out of the house.
"Yes bye" he stated. Korean?