So Friggin' Bob never got back to me. This past Tuesday Boyfriend and I were all lined up to go see two more places. One of them Boyfriend immediately didn't like the sound of because the landlord lived upstairs. Big Brother's watching, and all.
We went to look at that place first. As we're driving up, we note how lovely the neighborhood is, how quiet the street is, how cozy it all seems. So far so good! The outside of the place looks nice. I call the landlord (Clark) and he comes out to meet us. He leads us inside through a porch covered in trash and a baby stroller (who's baby needs this stroller? Clark did not look like he had an infant.) and Clark tells us this whole, glorious, trash-filled porch would be ours. Gee, thanks Clark.
We go inside and the place is a mess. Clark had warned us he was stripping wallpaper, but that was putting it lightly. The wallpaper that was still hanging was ATROCIOUS. One of the walls in the kitchen looked pregnant, for reasons unknown (omg maybe it was a wall baby, and that's who the stroller was for. MYSTERY SOLVED.) and Clark made it sound like he planned on putting up MORE wallpaper when he was done. No thanks, Clark.
Boyfriend also pointed out the ceiling that looked very leaky and sad. There was also no washer or dryer (there were supposedly hookups in the basement), no dishwasher, and no refrigerator. I went in planning to need to buy a washer and dryer if we moved there, but no fridge? "The previous tenants have always had their own," says Clark. Really? Come on.
Clark could tell we weren't impressed.
So anyway, we left Clark and stopped to have a beer before meeting Barry. In hindsight, we probably shouldn't have pounded beers and then looked at an apartment.
This apartment had everything we could have hoped for. The inside was clean and HUGE and had a refrigerator. No washer dryer, but hookups right in the unit. It was on the second floor, though, and I knew my beloved couches would never make it up there and fit through the doors. Also, there was no parking. Only street parking.
"Where do we park during a snow emergency, Barry?"
"I don't know, people find somewhere."
Seriously? I feel like that would be a common question and he should have an answer. Then Boyfriend blindsides me and tells Barry we're going to apply RIGHT NOW. "Get out your checkbook, honey!" Oh yeah, because Barry required $100 to even APPLY.
"Is it okay if we paint?" I ask, as Boyfriend fills out his portion of the application.
"NO. Oh, NO. No painting."
"Oh, okay...we don't need to or anything, just asking." Barry was really vehement about not painting. He didn't want anyone ruining the wood work. Like I'm some kind of heathen who would ruin woodwork. JEEZE BARRY.
"Look babe, we have a dining room! We could have dinner parties!" I said to Boyfriend, envisioning myself dressed as a character from Mad Men, serving delectable food to our guests.
"Yes, I don't mind you having people over...but parties?" Barry pipes in. RELAX BARRY. I said dinner party, not keg party. Also, Barry don't live there. I'll do what I want, Barry.
Barry also wanted us to move in IMMEDIATELY. Essentially so he could start charging us rent immediately. Barry was not sitting well with me. But Boyfriend usually hates everyone, and he seemed okay with Barry, so I figured that must mean something (it meant he'd just pounded a beer).
We got home and immediately felt Renter's Remorse (like buyer's remorse, only involving apartments). It just didn't feel right. So we sat down to watch Wheel of Fortune and mull it over.
"I don't want to live there! Get your check back!" Boyfriend suddenly exclaimed.
"ME EITHER!" I agreed. I decided to call Barry the next day.
So I called Barry around noon today when I finally had a chance to do it.
"We won't be moving forward with the apartment." *silence* I decide to be more emphatic: "We decided we don't want the apartment."
"Why?" Barry asks, indignantly.
"Uh, we've decided to hold off a bit...keep looking some more..."
"SIGH. You could have called 20 minutes ago. I already started running the credit checks!"
"Sorry?" Like I know Barry's life. I didn't know he was doing that right then.
"Well what do you want me to do with your check?"
"Just mail it back. My address is on the application." Because I never want to see you again, scary man!
I also cancelled the check, on the advice of The Council, just in case. Apparently the bad vibes we had about the apartment came from Barry. Thank God he will never be our landlord. The search continues and I'm already exhausted.
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