Since the elderly bachelor colonel also appeared to be both misogynist and not eager to find apartments for or to rent to men who were married to women, most of the tenants he seemed to have found West Village apartments for or rented to were apparently bachelor gay white males under 40. In addition, all his office and maintenance employees--including the accountant/bookkeeper who alone kept track of the financial/profit-loss side of his real estate business--were white males.
The catch of the "clerk-typist" job I had been referred to in the bachelor colonel real estate office by the Midtown Manhattan employment/fleshpeddler/placement agent was that there wasn't any office work for the "clerk-typist" to do. Apparently the bachelor ex-colonel--who seemed somewhat untogether emotionally--had a financial arrangement with the Midtown Manhattan employment/fleshpleddling/placement agency in which they would provide him with white males in their 20s to work as "clerk-typist" in his office whose only work functions would be to sit next to him each day from 9-to-5, and to keep saying "Yes, sir," whenever he would say "Isn't that right?" (following each monologue that he would spend the day uttering in his office unless he was talking to one of his maintenance employees or somebody who had walked into the office in search of a West Village apartment), and occasionally do errands for him during the day (like going outside to bring him back his lunch or cups of coffee from the small grocery shop a few doors down from his storefront real estate office).