Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Time to call in a U-Haul

Wow, it has been a while. I was still pilgrimming on to the Thanksgiving season when I last wrote. In fact, in the meantime, The Rock of Love turned out ugly--no shocker there given VH1 jumped on The Rock of Love 2 without allowing us to take a Poison-free breath, Tila apparently chose a man after bringing the options down to a man and a woman who one could easily mistake for a man, and New York has a new love that we have yet to see make it through the Reunion show. I wish my dating life were that exciting.

So, I got a new job (Applause).

What that means is: relocation, relocation, relocation, and in no way can that be equated to Thoreau's similar three-pronged invocation of simplicity. This meant taking the entire weekend to try and find a place near my new epicenter of work. Here are some of the highlights of my search:

My first apartment go-see landed me fairly close to my job, which was a plus. Unfortunately, that was the only plus. As soon as I pulled into the parking area shared by two adjacent buildings, I was given the immediate once-over by two individuals on their porch smoking, both of whom could be mistaken for the instigators of the latest hold up at the local liquor store. The landlord couldn't show me the apartment--she had apparently dropped the keys somewhere in the snow days before and had neglected to tell me that when I committed to see the place. I rescheduled the appointment, but when I decided to take a pass on the combination of a disorganized landlord and neighbors who have probably featured on the show COPS, I figured she would have lost my phone number anyway and therefore, I stood not a chance of getting the "where are you?" phone call from you when I didn't show up.

Later on, I saw a place on the other side of town where a lot of students live. Of course, that generally translates into appauling living spaces, exhorbitant prices, and lots of unwanted company. No shocker that was exactly what I found there. The house overseer was a little nervous because he thought the carpet looked shabby---but that was the least of his problems. The apartment included out of date appliances about to break down at any minute, rusty baseboards, ceiling tiles he was loath to replace because "the new, brighter tiles wouldn't match the older ones", an exposed patch of insulation in wall on the outside where the air conditioner was mounted, walls full of old nails and an older paint job, and a healthy dose of undisposed-of dog crap on the front step. Since I had contacted the man days before I intended to visit, at least he could have taken care of the latter problem.

Yet another landlord sent on his kids--his daughter and his two sons--to show us a place in a larger complex. They collectively arrived over twenty minutes late and because the girl didn't know which units were available, she needed to use my cell phone to call her absent dad and double check on that.

I drove a distance out to one place, took one look at it, pulled a U and came back, and I didn't pick up the phone when the landlord called to ask me where I was and whether or not I had gotten lost getting to the place.

Did this result in some good prospects? Valid question, but the answer is a hopeful "absolutely."

And, I stayed in the same hotel as John McCain in the process--unknowingly until he showed up in his bus. I didn't see him, but I did end up sharing an elevator with his wife, which confirmed my suspicion that he indeed did not marry her for her clever quips and quick wit.

6 comments:

M@ said...

Mrs. McCain: Hot enough for ya?

Jean-Luc Picard said...

You're certainly on the go!

Mike said...

Congratulations on your new gig.

Trudi said...

Congrats on the new job!

Love the odd reality bachelor type shows...it is a trainwreck, but I cannot help but get sucked into them. There is a lot of humor to them, but why do they have more success than me? Ha!

booda baby said...

New job, YAY!

Apartment search, ICK. What a waste of time and an unnecessary one, which makes it worse. Why the hell can't they

1. Tell you the truth. You're going to see it, anyway.
2. Show up. On time. That's their fricking job.
and
3. TELL YOU THE TRUTH and MUSTER JUST A FEW MORE OF THOSE brain cells gone astray while you're standing there.

Back in the day, before I realized I'd been suckered by my own romantic visions of how I thought it would be, I managed an apartment building in Hollywood. It's on a David Hockney piece, so OF COURSE I had to take the gig. It was 24-7, but that's the deal and after all, there are people's lives and small fortunes involved. Fuck.

I guess I have no sympathy for any managers' bullshit.

Zero said...

That was hilarious -about McCain's wife. I would vote for you if you stood for office someday.