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The first apartment I look into...
Sep. 28th, 2004 11:02 pmI didn't have particularly high expectations of the apartment I was looking at today. It was on the low end of the scale for a burgeoning neighborhood. This one area is a little less, uhm, polished. The website I found it on should have given me a clue. How many agents look like an overstuffed leprechaun and play ass-kicking tunes at the same time?
When I drove up, I see the guy (minus the stylin beard) sitting in his van. I walk up, thinking he's going to get out. He doesn't and is holding out the keys to the apartment. When I say the guy was big, I mean he was obscenely fat. There he was, Burt, with more stomach than minivan, amidst an ocean of papers, deployed airbag crunched into a sad dusty droop on the steering wheel. He holds up this long form and says, "Take a look around. Right here" pointing to a section called Requested Improvements "anything you'd like to see done, you can write down."
Hmm.
I open up the apartment. Firstly, the kids would love the floors as they're very springy. There are two A/C units, but they've seen much better times. Three windows are propped open, revealing a lovely shade of wood rot on the sill. The kitchen is less than average. Bathroom looks like an afterthought. I could just see myself crammed on that little john, knees knocking on the pressboard lavatory two inches in front of the toilet. The back door...sort of locked. I thanked the guy, but said it wasn't quite what I was looking for.
"Well, are you looking for something nicer?" and he proceeds to sell me on other places he has "nice" rentals, like I don't know the neighborhoods he's describing have two qualities: falling and apart. I drive off.
Meandering through the streets near my "old" house, I realized how foreign it had become. I drove by the street a few times, wondering if anyone I knew would be out. I just wonder what they think, you know?
I found some great places though, probably all out of my league. One is right near the Fairgrounds, where Jazzfest happens each spring, plus Whole Foods is a block away. It's half of a modest 1930's double, with a driveway, two bedrooms, wood floors. But it's $850 a month. Shit. I can't swing that. So it sucks, because it's this UNREAL nice apartment on a super-quiet street, nestled under the oaks near the track. Can I sell my testicles to science and make enough rent till January? It sucks.
I searched a lot of places online tonight, turning up a bunch of stuff. I'm going to make a few more appointments for tomorrow. I'm seeing the above one just to torture myself. Maybe she'll think I'm nice and give it to me for $650. Nah, she won't.
When I drove up, I see the guy (minus the stylin beard) sitting in his van. I walk up, thinking he's going to get out. He doesn't and is holding out the keys to the apartment. When I say the guy was big, I mean he was obscenely fat. There he was, Burt, with more stomach than minivan, amidst an ocean of papers, deployed airbag crunched into a sad dusty droop on the steering wheel. He holds up this long form and says, "Take a look around. Right here" pointing to a section called Requested Improvements "anything you'd like to see done, you can write down."
Hmm.
I open up the apartment. Firstly, the kids would love the floors as they're very springy. There are two A/C units, but they've seen much better times. Three windows are propped open, revealing a lovely shade of wood rot on the sill. The kitchen is less than average. Bathroom looks like an afterthought. I could just see myself crammed on that little john, knees knocking on the pressboard lavatory two inches in front of the toilet. The back door...sort of locked. I thanked the guy, but said it wasn't quite what I was looking for.
"Well, are you looking for something nicer?" and he proceeds to sell me on other places he has "nice" rentals, like I don't know the neighborhoods he's describing have two qualities: falling and apart. I drive off.
Meandering through the streets near my "old" house, I realized how foreign it had become. I drove by the street a few times, wondering if anyone I knew would be out. I just wonder what they think, you know?
I found some great places though, probably all out of my league. One is right near the Fairgrounds, where Jazzfest happens each spring, plus Whole Foods is a block away. It's half of a modest 1930's double, with a driveway, two bedrooms, wood floors. But it's $850 a month. Shit. I can't swing that. So it sucks, because it's this UNREAL nice apartment on a super-quiet street, nestled under the oaks near the track. Can I sell my testicles to science and make enough rent till January? It sucks.
I searched a lot of places online tonight, turning up a bunch of stuff. I'm going to make a few more appointments for tomorrow. I'm seeing the above one just to torture myself. Maybe she'll think I'm nice and give it to me for $650. Nah, she won't.
