what the fuck?
So i've been looking for a new apartment because my raised rent has me skyrocketing towards homelessness.
Yesterday i went on a house-hunting mission, and saw about a thousand shitty places and met quite a few totally incapable "realtors". I put realtor in quotes because if you arrive (late) to show me a home while wearing your pajamas, you are not a realtor, you are a lazy bitch.
The first place i went i stood outside in the 100 degree heat for 20 minutes waiting for the girl to meet me at the sales office. 20 minutes is the ABSOLUTE longest i can wait for pretty much anything. I called the girl who was supposed to meet me and she said "oh, i'm in the condo. I thought we were meeting in here." I wanted to say "Now how the hell am I supposed to know which condo it is if you said there were a few to choose from?" But instead politely walk my sweaty ass over to the condo she's in and open the door and
what. the. fuck.
it smelled like something absolutely DIED in the condo.
Me: "what is up with that smell?"
"Realtor": Oh, we aren't sure. either something died in the attic or it's the maggots in the fridge.
Me: maggots in the fridge? for real?
"Realtor": yeah, actual maggots. Now i can't promise that the owner will replace the fridge, but we will at least have it cleaned out before you move in.
Me: peace.
Then I go to another place and feel good that i've arrived at 4:55 which is the earliest i have ever been for a 5:00 appointment.
I call the dude i'm meeting and he says
"Realtor": you're here? Well, i guess meet me in the sales office."
I walk to the sales office and arrive at 4:57.
"Realtor": I didn't know you'd be so early.
Me: it's five o'clock right now, i'm not early. trust me, i'm never early.
"Realtor": Well i'm starving, have a seat. You'll have to wait while i eat this.
Me: Seriously?
Then he takes out a Wendy's bag, slowly spreads out his yellow napkin as a little tablecloth, and starts meticulously dipping fries into a Frosty. For 20 minutes.
I try to make conversation while I wait.
me: wow, it's really hot today. (yeah, that's a wack thing to say, i know. give me a break.)
"Realtor": Yeah, my parents just moved out here and they didn't have air conditioning for a few days. They almost died.
Me: yeah, i hear that every year there are a few deaths due to heat.
"Realtor": no, that doesn't happen here. That usually just happens in France.
Me: (stare blankly. think "how fucking random is this guy?" end conversation.)
Then when he was finished sucking the last of the frosty and fry crumbs out of the cup (fucking nasty) he showed me an apartment that was the size of a dish washer. i declined to take an application.
I went on to see:
1. a place located between a cemetary and a powerplant substation. (maybe it's just me, but i'm pretty sure substations aren't healthy to live by.)
2. a place in the absolute ghetto that wouldn't allow my dog even though they said dogs were allowed in the ad. probably for the better, it was depressing ghetto not cheap ghetto.
3. a place that was decent but came partially furnished with a giant plaid couch that i was in no circumstances allowed to move, and the guy who owned it randomly asked me if i knew where Israel was. Probably only the beginning of the weirdness if i moved in there.
So finally after all this we decided to move across the street into the dope lofts that i had forgotten about until last night. good work, dee.
in other news, my cooking rocks the fucking house and who knew i could cook the shit out of a wheat free BBQ chicken pizza?
Yesterday i went on a house-hunting mission, and saw about a thousand shitty places and met quite a few totally incapable "realtors". I put realtor in quotes because if you arrive (late) to show me a home while wearing your pajamas, you are not a realtor, you are a lazy bitch.
The first place i went i stood outside in the 100 degree heat for 20 minutes waiting for the girl to meet me at the sales office. 20 minutes is the ABSOLUTE longest i can wait for pretty much anything. I called the girl who was supposed to meet me and she said "oh, i'm in the condo. I thought we were meeting in here." I wanted to say "Now how the hell am I supposed to know which condo it is if you said there were a few to choose from?" But instead politely walk my sweaty ass over to the condo she's in and open the door and
what. the. fuck.
it smelled like something absolutely DIED in the condo.
Me: "what is up with that smell?"
"Realtor": Oh, we aren't sure. either something died in the attic or it's the maggots in the fridge.
Me: maggots in the fridge? for real?
"Realtor": yeah, actual maggots. Now i can't promise that the owner will replace the fridge, but we will at least have it cleaned out before you move in.
Me: peace.
Then I go to another place and feel good that i've arrived at 4:55 which is the earliest i have ever been for a 5:00 appointment.
I call the dude i'm meeting and he says
"Realtor": you're here? Well, i guess meet me in the sales office."
I walk to the sales office and arrive at 4:57.
"Realtor": I didn't know you'd be so early.
Me: it's five o'clock right now, i'm not early. trust me, i'm never early.
"Realtor": Well i'm starving, have a seat. You'll have to wait while i eat this.
Me: Seriously?
Then he takes out a Wendy's bag, slowly spreads out his yellow napkin as a little tablecloth, and starts meticulously dipping fries into a Frosty. For 20 minutes.
I try to make conversation while I wait.
me: wow, it's really hot today. (yeah, that's a wack thing to say, i know. give me a break.)
"Realtor": Yeah, my parents just moved out here and they didn't have air conditioning for a few days. They almost died.
Me: yeah, i hear that every year there are a few deaths due to heat.
"Realtor": no, that doesn't happen here. That usually just happens in France.
Me: (stare blankly. think "how fucking random is this guy?" end conversation.)
Then when he was finished sucking the last of the frosty and fry crumbs out of the cup (fucking nasty) he showed me an apartment that was the size of a dish washer. i declined to take an application.
I went on to see:
1. a place located between a cemetary and a powerplant substation. (maybe it's just me, but i'm pretty sure substations aren't healthy to live by.)
2. a place in the absolute ghetto that wouldn't allow my dog even though they said dogs were allowed in the ad. probably for the better, it was depressing ghetto not cheap ghetto.
3. a place that was decent but came partially furnished with a giant plaid couch that i was in no circumstances allowed to move, and the guy who owned it randomly asked me if i knew where Israel was. Probably only the beginning of the weirdness if i moved in there.
So finally after all this we decided to move across the street into the dope lofts that i had forgotten about until last night. good work, dee.
in other news, my cooking rocks the fucking house and who knew i could cook the shit out of a wheat free BBQ chicken pizza?
posted by dee goldie at 7:29 PM
4 Comments:
crackhead.
are you calling ME a crackhead? after all the crackheads mentioned in above story?
YES! :)
we actually did find a great place right across the street. (Shut up, lee. so i forgot about the lofts across the street. there's a lot on my mind, okay?)
We move in on the 15th which will be tricky since i'm not going to be in town that weekend. god i can't wait for the day when i can hire movers! i want all my stuff already moved in for me when i get back, dammit!
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