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Girlinlove

I live here. It sucks.

by Girlinlove []
Published on 5/4/07 in Culture
What's worse, I pay to live here, in my apartment, the worst apartment ever. You doubt me? Read on.
I live in an apartment in the woods, as if I ever thought that was possible. I grew up in a lower middle class Los Angeles suburb. We could count the trees on our hands, and I learned early the pleasures of walking barefoot on scalding asphalt baked in the California sun. Now I can't go outside without shoes because I'll get attacked by ants. Red ones, black ones, big ones, small ones....all of them bite. When I moved across the country to a backward southern city on the east coast, I should have known I would be a little uncomfortable.

I have lived with roommates who barely spoke English and left raw frozen shrimp out to defrost on the kitchen counter all day long. My friends all wrinkled their noses when they walked in the door, as if someone had stuffed a dead fish behind the loveseat.

My second-to-last roommate raised the rent $200 bucks a month to help finance her divorce. This is how she announced she was selling her house: one morning, while I was sleeping in my room, a realtor paraded a group of prospective buyers through the house. They peeked in on me, one by one, stepping into the room and commenting loudly. They left the house with all the lights on and all the doors open, including the front door. All with me still in my bed, gaping.

I have only one thing to say about the last place I lived, the one with the downstairs neighbors and the meth lab in their bathtub: acetone fumes really hamper a good hot shower.

My current apartment takes the cake, however:
  • The paint pulls off the kitchen wall like peelable nail polish.
  • The refrigerator leaks water all over the floor every single day.
  • The walls are so thin a bullet can ricochet off a tree in front of someone else's unit and go through two walls of my apartment before disintegrating. This happened.
  • The washer and dryer are next to my kitchen sink and across from my oven. In the kitchen. And if it wasn't for that, I would have zero counter space.
  • The toilet handle sticks.
  • The tub drain clogs repeatedly.
  • The latch on the sliding glass door is broken.
  • The windows have no screens.
  • The slide chain security lock pulled out of the wall at the slightest use of force.
  • There is no filter in the AC intake, and the screws are painted shut. This paint, of course, is not peelable nail polish. It is more like dried tree sap when it gets stuck to your car's hood.
  • The maintenance man is too busy to fix my apartment's flaws; he is, however, not too busy to repaint all the doors in the building. Or to force me to stop grilling steaks on my porch.
  • My ceiling is criss-crossed in cracks, and the people upstairs stomp around all night long. I have laid awake listening to them. They are tireless.
  • My neighbor across the hall is an obese woman who alternately smells like ass and death. Sometimes both, covered in potpourri. Her smell hovers in the hallway outside my door like a fog.

Why do I live here? Because every other effing apartment in my price range is just like this. I could go on and on about the housing market inflating rents all over the country, about the way landlords take advantage of tenants and exploit tired, over-worked people like myself. I could. But you'll have to excuse me. I have to go mop the floor in front of my refrigerator before people start staking out lakefront property.

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22 Comments

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JaneCopland

Jane
I can't really compete with this, but here are my two stories:
First roommate out of the dorms consistently let sour cream (and other tasty items) go bad underneath unwashed plates in the kitchen sink. She refused to let my boyfriend (now husband) come over, even though he lived 80 miles away and could only see me on the weekends. She refused to let him use soap when he visited, as she viewed that as a drain on her finances. She let him know that he should bring his own hand soap if he were to continue plaguing her with his Saturday-afternoon presence. She ate only tuna and popcorn.

Second story: After four weeks, water started pouring through the roof of the first apartment I lived in after leaving college. The slumlord in charge refused to take responsibility for the disrepair of the roof or the damage to our belongings and the belongings of the three other units below us. Only when my husband let the slumlord know that he had taken photographs of the severely neglected and damaged roof and had a pitbull of a lawyer were we let our of our lease. Fun! Written on 5/4/07

girlinlove

Girlinlove
ok, well....pretty good. The tuna and popcorn girl is pretty gnarly. My landlord/roommate/former friend-going-through-a-divorce was a lot like that one, actually. When my boyfriend (now fiance) came across the country to see me, she wouldn't let him sleep in the living room. He had no car and couldn't drive mine because of some crazy military rule, I was sick in my bed, and he was stranded. She refused to allow him to stay over, so he tried sleeping in my 87 Honday Accord hatchback. He ended up with a blanket on the curb all night. In February. And when the weekend was over she was all smiles and "it was great meeting you!"

Oh, and did I forget to mention that she refused to let me park my car in the driveway?

grrr.... Written on 5/4/07

JaneCopland

Jane
This story is VERY familiar. My BF / HF and I stayed in a local hotel one night because we just couldn't stand to be around her. I'd just flown back from a swim meet somewhere and the idea of going home to that was enough to make me go halves on a Holiday Inn room.

On another occasion, the BF and I drove the eighty miles to his place at one in the morning on my return from a swimming trip. Same problem, different solution.

PS: she made him sleep on the street? I'd have held her against a wall and shoved her teeth down her throat. But I have anger issues. Written on 5/4/07

girlinlove

Girlinlove
then Drivl is indeed the best place for you.....

No, really--I was so sick that night, i didn't know until the next morning what had happened. I stopped speaking to her. I suppose I am not the type to hold people against the wall and shove teeth. At least, I didn't used to be. Since getting engaged I have developed some problems with jealousy...but that is for another article, methinks. Written on 5/4/07

girlinlove

Girlinlove
oh...and I also totally got a hotel room with him just to avoid her, too. This story IS very familiar.

I even took him to my parents house rather than go home where she was. He had to sleep on the couch, but only for part of the night. And not really alone. You know it's bad when you'd rather take your boyfriend to the same house your dad sleeps in than make him co-exist with your roommate. Written on 5/4/07

JaneCopland

Jane
I believe we lived with the same person. Written on 5/4/07

Rebecca

Rebecca Kelley
The first apartment I got when I moved to Seattle was sandwiched between the "loudly buzz your friends in and loudly slam your mail slots open and shut" entryway on the left and a screaming, fighting couple on the right. I would lay awake at 3:00 am every weekend and listen to the torrid ups and downs of their relationship.

I'll sum it up for you: she cheated on him, they screamed about it, they broke up, they got back together, she wanted to work at a bar, he said no, she said why not, he screamed something about how she'll just pick up a guy and bring him home and sleep with him like she did last time, and then they would scream some more.

It was pretty awesome. Written on 5/4/07

JaneCopland

Jane
Did I mention what the roommate's name was? Written on 5/4/07

dillivered

Brett
Ladies. Where...in the hell...did you find these people? I think I would have lost it. No. I know I would have lost it. Props to the BFs/Husbands/Fiances for taking it for love.

Anyway great article. I don't think many people think about the fact that the trouble with the housing market is damaging low income renters. Written on 5/4/07

dillivered

Brett
Sorry I didn't mean not to give you all credit for dealing with the situations yourselves, that I give you FULL credit for because you probably all wanted/want to go berzerk on somebody. I was just trying to help your guys score some more much deserved points. ;-) Written on 5/4/07

JaneCopland

Jane
Actually, I regret not having gone batshit crazy on her. I should have conducted myself with far less grace than I did. However, my BF / HF does indeed deserve props for putting up with that shit. Written on 5/4/07

girlinlove

Girlinlove
I comfort myself thinking about how pathetic her life now is....actually, I think I am more comforted not thinking about her at all. But yes...my fiance deserves all the credit he can get. He loves me....and my friends/family/roommates/co-workers have made him prove it over and over again. How DO I find these people??? Written on 5/4/07

JaneCopland

Jane
I comfort myself thinking about how pathetic her life now is


... and forever will be :) Written on 5/4/07

MC_10-56

Joshua Paddock

Before I got married, I lived in a house with 5 guys. It was pretty nasty, but 350 a month between 5 guys was pretty nice. Except there was only one bedroom. And no shower. And no refrigerator. And no stove. We did have three mini-fridges stacked on top of one another, and a propane camp stove on the counter. Taking a bath was a long and laborious process, so we'd either not bathe or go shower at the local Best Western whenever our buddy was manning the front desk. The lone bedroom was the front room of the house, and we had two bunk beds in there and I slept in the garage. Our landlady was a straight up crazy ass bitch. She'd show up at 3 in the morning wanting to get high, then the next day threaten to throw us all out and call the cops on us. She also had this weird guy who was her handy man, but the only time he ever showed up to fix anything was when I got really drunk one night and kicked a hole in the front door. He showed up the next night around 11 pm threatening to kill whomever did that to the door unless they coughed up 1,000 bucks. So, instead of paying to have it fixed, we all just moved out. I got married, one of the other guys moved to Korea, another to Madagascar, and the other two went on tour with their band.
Written on 5/4/07

JaneCopland

Jane
Okay, that almost beats my soap story :P Written on 5/4/07

MC_10-56

Joshua Paddock
Yeah, I think your soap story is better. None of our girlfriends even WANTED to come to our place, even during the daytime. Written on 6/4/07

girlinlove

Girlinlove
at least, I suppose, if any of your roommates had any soap, they would not have withheld it.

the landlady wanting to get high though....that's good stuff. I have only one question:

did you get high with her??? Written on 6/4/07

MC_10-56

Joshua Paddock
Well of COURSE we got high with her. We might have all been poor directionless slobs, but we weren't inhospitable. Written on 12/4/07

unbelievable

brendan hills
Jeeze mate - all of those things (aside from the neighbours) could be fixed by you for a few bucks and little bit of time. Why don't you stop complaining on Drivl and actually make your home nice to live in?

On second thoughts, you don't need to stop complaining here: it is funny to read. :-) Written on 9/4/07

girlinlove

Girlinlove
I know. Ok. So...I am actually going to Home Depot to purchase a filter for my air conditioner intake, and i will pry through that paint.

However--who has time to improve on someone else's investment--namely, my landlord's--when it is way more dramatic and melancholy and downright justified to complain about it on company time??

No, really...it's sad, because I actually can't afford to fix the fridge. Also, The drywall is so soft I really can't replace the security chain (or hang pictures), and even if I managed to lodge it into the wall, it would be useless as a security device. And...I will actually prime and paint the place, before I move somewhere else, even though that makes no sense, just to get my security deposit back. Which they probably won't give me based on some technicality. Like a piece of spagetti stuck to the inside rim of a stove burner or something.

And seriously, the smelly neighbor is totally out of my control. Although I will admit to a few homicidal thoughts now and then.

Besides, the Law says that my landlord, not me, should take care of that stuff. It's the Principle of the thing!! Written on 19/4/07

blitzhund

William Paris
My wife lived in a fifth (that's floor 6 for the rest of the world) floor flat in Edinburgh during university.

It came with the following 'features'

1) No elevator - but a narrow staircase of around 300 stairs (ahhhh...double height ceilings).
2) Holes in the wall on the outside - the pigeons would get in a coo all day and night and in the spring - it was pigeon porno time! Just try and sleep while pigeons are getting amorous in the walls.
3) No heat. Always a lovely thing in December when the wind comes screaming in from the North Sea.
4) It was above a Chippy. So smelling chips and fish 24 hours a day was mandatory. Which when you are broke and eating fucking baked potatoes for the 15th time in a week actually starts to gnaw away at one's soul.
5) Free air-conditioning in the form of gaps between the window frames and the wall. I'm pretty certain that more than one of these just randomly fell out a couple of times.

Good times. Written on 11/4/07

crickit

Cristy Anzalone Bystry
I just had to add a couple quick roommate/neighbor nightmares. In college I had a roommate that somehow managed to crap all over the back of the toilet, behind it and all over the tile floor. Needless to say, I was not there when the incident took place but was lucky enough to be the one to clean it up as she disappeared for two days afterward. Number two: My second roommate and I lived next door to what we called "The Weeper." EVERY weekend she proceeded to get in a loud, heated argument with her boyfriend and then cry for hours at a time. As if this weekly drama weren't enough, she actually said "BOO HOO" when she cried. I kid you not. Story number three: We lived downstairs from what I can only assume were clog dancing Vampires. They never rose before sunset and only wore wooden shoes in which they paced back and forth all hours of the night.

Loved the story...
Love the website...
Written on 11/4/07

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