Love Letter or a Lease Agreement?!

I adore my new landlord/neighbor. 

My educated guess is that she's 77 years old and
arguably the cutest pocket sized person on the planet. 

She tells me "she's shrinking", and I believe her.

I call her Miss Mendoza to be respectful.
In turn, she asked what I go by,
to which I answered, "Just Stacey".
As she's slightly hard of hearing she said,
"Ok, Miss Stacey. Now Miss Stacey..." 

And I didn't have the heart to correct her.
But not gonna lie, I kinda like having a surname.
Feels royal ;)

So when I moved in, she handed me what looked like a note,
yet when I peered closer I saw within the cursive scribbles 
that it was in fact my "official" lease.

Correction: My copy of the lease. 

My handwritten copy of the lease:

Coming straight off a flight from New York, 
(the mecca of brokers fees, guarantors & co-signers)
you should have seen the look on my face...
I just wanted to bear hug that mini-mamacita!

OLD SCHOOL BABY

Then she leaned in and asked "if I could pay in cash" and
that was the straw in which I burst into jovial laughter :)

Waaaa?
Sure 

I can honestly say I now know how 

Dorothy felt when spouting the line, 

"Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

GOODBYE ZOO YORK!