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Monday, 08 October
Life As A Househunt

Howdy, howdy. Sorry for the lapse in posts; we've been dealing with a lot of crap what with the whole "get the fuck out!" thing. But you'll be happy to know that we haven't bothered to start packing anything. (Truth be told? We have boxes of shit that never got unpacked from four and a half years ago. Hooray!) We figure we'd like to, you know, have a place to live before we worry about shoving our garbage into liquor boxes.

We looked at a place today, a two-bedroom only a block away; the 50-ish bra-less apartment manager ushered us in to the 1928 apartment, saying, "And it's still standing!" Good selling point! We trudged up the four flights of curiously barn-smelling stairs to the apartment and entered. The living room was smaller by half than our current living room. "That's a nice archway," I said, noting a particularly boring archway. I stared at the sprung hardwood floorboards and didn't say anything.

"Isn't it?" she said. "We're changing the awnings, by the way," she continued, striding to the tiny windows. "The new ones will be green!" She hauled for a moment on the window to open it up and failed. "Ugh," she said. I noted a quarter-inch gap between the window and the sash. "Anyway, we're not done with this place."

The wife and I split up. I headed into the kitchen. I noticed one of those old circular kitchen fans set into the wall to vent to the outside. The cover was open, and I beheld what appeared to be the crushed remains of The Scarecrow crammed into it; I could feel his fear toxin seeping into my body. I opened a thin cabinet, and an ironing board fell out; the cabinet door had staples that protruded through into the inside.

I found my wife exploring, if that can possibly be the term, the Lilliputian bathroom, which felt like some sort of Iowa hostel bathroom, complete with an ancient, cutesy sink. The wife opened a sad little cabinet mounted above, and mustered the comment, "Look, honey, it opens." I toed a loose tile in the flooring, and tried unsuccessfully to imagine ever happily taking a non-depressing shit in the room.

The bedrooms, both of them, looked exactly like what "Law & Order" location scouts look for when they're hunting for some seedy murder scene in a shitty NYC hotel room. Hey, are these cheap blinds bent and dusty? Score!

Looking at apartments is just depressing as hell. The rent on this place--no parking included--was $1400.

Some apartment managers simply do not show up for their appointments. I guess that's sort of a hint of the kind of choad that we don't want to be needing help from when the toilet explodes from methane buildup. Other places simply don't seem to match up in any way with what these people have to say about them. We waited for ten minutes in the lobby of another place recently while the manager explained to the Geek Squad guy about how he wanted his new TV installed. In the meantime, a young girl on a cell phone let in some guy through the front door, and the first thing he said to her was, "Can you hold my sandwich?" She did, you'll be thrilled to learn. The wife and I looked at each other.

"I would say our building skews a little older," the manager told us when he got done with the Geek Squad guy.

He showed us the apartment. "You can probably tell the previous tenants had cats," he said. Being a histological comedy zone, I can generally tell when cats are within city blocks of myself, the distinct tang of catshit in the air was, yes, a slight giveaway.

We glanced around a bit. The baseboard heating units (oh, for fuck's sake) looked rather kicked in, and, as usual, the horizontal blinds were dented and sad. He raised one anyway to show us the view, which looked straight down into some neighboring bungalow's windows. Sweet, I can either watch strangers fuck, or, better yet, commit murder. There was a lower-story roof overhang that it also overlooked, and I stared dismally at, of all things, a discarded AC/DC CD that someone had apparently decided to pitch out into the gloaming one hopeless dark night of the metal soul.

We asked about the rental price. "I think it's $1345. It might be $1395." Sigh. I breathed in another dose of feline funk and felt my lungs prickle.

But there is something else we saw. We saw it today. I don't want to talk about it, because . . . look, I'm not a superstitious guy. But I'm going to be so here. I just don't want to say anything, because it feels good to hope. It feels good to have a good feeling. We have good feelings about something, something good, and frankly, we could really use it right now. If it doesn't happen, then we will soldier on, but . . . this could happen.

If you feel like you want to contribute to the juju we're feeling and nursing, well then, just dig out that old copy of the Revolting Cocks' album Beers, Steers & Queers, dial up the volume to just under "getting evicted" levels and dance all you like to track 7. Its title comes from the rather unassuming film 2010.

Something Wonderful.

Note: Comments are closed on old entries.


You know, I also meant to comment on the fact that the wife has done pretty much 90% of all of the apartment hunting duties. In this endeavor, I have been Phoebe to her Holden Caulfield. She writes in her notebook while I make stupid comments about guys like Commander Blop. I deserve no mention in any of this; unfortunately, I'm the guy who wrote it. But make no mistake: I suck.

Comment number: 015439   Posted by: Skot on October 9, 2007 12:20 AM from IP:

Totally irrelevant to the entry:

I've been reading this site probably almost as long as it's been around, and I never noticed when you finally got an RSS feed. It's certainly better than checking my bookmarks whenever I get around to cleaning them out, and having to read six months of archives. So... awesome. This is one site where I HATE to miss a post.

Comment number: 015440   Posted by: Candice on October 9, 2007 01:11 AM from IP:

Consider my fingers crossed.

Comment number: 015441   Posted by: special k on October 9, 2007 02:00 AM from IP:

What the hell's wrong with baseboard heating?

Comment number: 015444   Posted by: i, squub on October 10, 2007 06:53 AM from IP:

I so forgot about the revolting cocks. man, do I love to dance to them. so, goodness in, goodness back atcha.

Comment number: 015445   Posted by: alyxmyself on October 10, 2007 07:36 AM from IP:

What the hell's wrong with baseboard heating?

What the hell's right with it? It's inefficient and wickedly expensive. Compared to steam or forced water heating, it's a complete nightmare, financially and practically. There's nothing like getting a $500 power bill in November.

Comment number: 015446   Posted by: Skot on October 10, 2007 08:01 AM from IP:

Revco, making the world a better place for you and your hog bitch girlfriend, in your shitty ass dive apartment.

Comment number: 015448   Posted by: spinal on October 10, 2007 03:06 PM from IP:

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