Damn liberal hippie neo-cons.
Or something. I’ve got to find someone to blame for my troubles over the weekend and it may as well be someone who doesn’t exist so I don’t have to imagine their faces piercing me every time I think of the pain I’ve experienced.
Yeah, it was that bad.
This weekend Eriko and I went hunting for apartments. This was a task that ended up being much less annoying than I expected. It was pretty much entertaining which is a fact that terrifies me to the endless reaches of my soul. What was even more scary was that looking at the prices of your basic necessary consumer electronics (fridge, etc.) was also a good time. Scary for the actual amount of money that is going to be necessary but still entertaining nonetheless. Who knew growing up was so much fun?
Anyway. So we’re looking at a bunch of apartments and getting all these prices and locations thrown at us. Then Eriko’s mother1 asked about a terrace house. I had no idea what it was but when the dude showed us one apartment I fell in love instantly. It had stairs.
Seeing this apartment filled me with some emotions in sticky parts of my body that I didn’t even know existed. Stairs. Holy fuck, I want stairs in my home. Checking out the apartment I was blown away. It didn’t feel like an apartment. It felt like somewhere you lived. Since the summer of 2003 I have been in apartments. I’m frankly a bit sick of the whole thing. But this apartment had stairs. It just made the whole thing feel like something more than an apartment. I could instantly imagine living there and all our belongings fit into their places and it all made sense. It felt good. I was ready to sign the paperwork then and there. But logically, we should check out other places. So we did.
So a few apartment checks later I was still in love with the first but we had one more to check that was still occupied. We filled out some paperwork proclaiming our interest in the apartment and made plans to check out the last apartment the following week. I figured we may as well but my heart was still set on stairs.
Eriko’s mother invites me to dinner so we go shopping for foods and stuff and head back to her place. While we’re eating dinner a call comes for Eriko. I hear her say yes about 800 times and then she hangs up. At this point she tells me there was a mix-up and the apartment we were shown first had actually been taken prior. That’s right. Stairs. Gone.
I was more broken up about this news than I’d ever expected I could be about something like this. It’s just an apartment and I’m sure we can find another one just as good. But no stairs. The only other places like that were located in a place not conducive to either of us working where we currently work. I wants me some stairs but not at the price of massive daily inconvenience. No stairs. I’m really bummed because it was something unique. There was just a charm and a convenience to the apartment that I couldn’t believe existed. Everything fit together and it wasn’t that big of a place but it felt huge because of how well it was set up.
Oh well. Back to the hunt.
- Yeah, I don’t know why she was there. But she was helpful! [↩]
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