Beware of Geeks Buying Gifts

So we’re apartment hunting. We were house shopping but my credit wasn’t good enough then my credit to debt ratio was, then it wasn’t, in the end it was but I said fuck it, I’ll buy when I’m good and ready and when I learn to save money, stay home and not blow hundreds of dollars a night in the local bars and desire shit I don’t need like a Segway or a Heckler & Koch (and sell the other expensive machinery I own). The place we live in is fabulous, yet it has gone from under $700 a month to over $2000 a month in the past three years. Over $2000 a month on something you don’t own is outrageous, so an apartment it is. So our requirements are at least two bedrooms, two levels, at least 1.5 baths and somewhere to bbq- (deck/balcony)- downtown. We’ve searched high and low and cannot fulfill all of our requirements, each place we went to lacked at least one of our amenities. We found the ultimate spot for the ultimate price, this place was four levels, had a 6 person Jacuzzi, a sauna (not sure if it worked), at least three bathrooms, exposed brick, spiral staircase, sky lights, everything, and it was fully furnished. Something inside me just said no– something is wrong somewhere in Denmark. Maybe it’s from growing up poor and never having shit good ever happen that wasn’t disguised in some way by something beautiful. But hell this has nothing to do with race and poverty, an extremely super gorgeous in every way physically woman, to me– there’s something wrong with her– look at Halle Berry– she couldn’t keep a pansy like Eric Benet. I mean I lucked up and have an extremely gorgeous, intelligent, woman who can actually do shit with her hands (I can’t), but she’s from Tennessee and can’t cook. I mean it works out– she builds shit in the house and puts shit together and I toss on the apron. But with the house– what is that certain something that’s it’s lacking. It has three beds and a futon in it– is it a pervert watching our every move like Real World cameras up in that piece or something? Or is it haunted? So, I’m weary of the house- it’s too good to be true, I wonder what it lacks, always beware of gorgeous gifts. And thus, the hunt continues…

Appendix I

OK, I jump in a cab head North, the irony is this cab drive was less than this one and I went twice the distance. I get to this beautiful neighborhood, I mean beautiful, parks, mansions, condos, row homes, and this building. My appointment was to see a two bedroom, two bath split level apt. I get to the door to get buzzed in and it’s maybe 12 or thirteen notes taped to the wall: “Fedex/UPS give my packages to the drug store across the st.” “give mine to Lucy in the flower shop”, “don’t leave my shit in this vestibule”. I should of turned around but an appointment is an appointment.

I get buzzed in and I go downstairs to the rental office to meet the young lady. She tells me that the tenant just moved out in August so they haven’t made any renovations yet. I look at my wrist–does anybody besides me do that like it’s a calendar on there like it’s the emmin-effin 9th, but OK, whatever. We get in and she gives the caveat, “this was not one of our good tenants”. There are “types” of tenants–noted. So she opens the door let’s me in and stands in the doorway squinching her arms together close to her body, but not tying to be obvious about it. I go in and oh hell is fubarred, the carpet, which she explained would be replaced, looked like pavement, not the pavement outside the building in this nice neighborhood but pavement say in front of the courthouse.

me: [looking in the kitchen]does it have a dishwasher?
rental agent: yup
me: where? master bedroom?
rental agent: [refusing to budge] it’s in there
me: where?
rental agent: next to the stove

O.K. she’s right, there happens to be a foot wide object next to the stove that could of possibly — in some third world countries– be called an appliance. Wow, I wanted to pick it up and take it to the office because our coffee pot gets mighty stained. I actually think I could of gaffled that dishwasher, let her walk me out, shake her hand, with her being totally oblivious I had a dishwasher down my pants. So I look around the living room and decide to go upstairs–why not. So the upstairs had two bedrooms as publicized in the ad, they weren’t big or small but they had been lived in– by what it looks like some squatters. Like some homeless person killed a couple took their keys and belongings, looked at their address and decided to move in.

So I’m ready to go, she has two units to show me, I have to get back downtown to work, I don’t want to be rude so I figure I’d lap the next apartment and leave. On my way out of the first apartment I remember my amenity list and inquire about the washer and dryer. Now we currently have the smallest washer/dryer unit I ever saw, we get about three pairs of drawlz and a bra in each cycle. Check that, the second smallest washer/dryer unit I ever saw. Because this unit, I could of gaffled walked out, shook hands… down my pants–you know the drill.

She insisted on showing me the second unit which would be lived in until November. She knocked and another young lady– who apparently didn’t live there answered the door. This apartment had hardwood floors and looked well kept, African art everywhere. The young lady said that the owner was in the shower he would be out shortly and that we could look around. I glanced in the guest bathroom and I see some female belongings and I think “way to go main man –get that booty”. I hear a tingling sound and everything gets blurry, I get dreary eyed and remembering when I first had combs and hair in my sink and how I didn’t mind because I just got– “Sir, we can look at the upstairs in a few minutes the current tenant is in the shower”. I say no problem, I don’t need to see the upstairs.

As we depart my snobby ass was going to go on a rant much like this one, pull the washing machine and dishwasher out my pants and do the “nah,nan,na,na-na” dance etc. etc., but I decided not to, if you haven’t noticed I’m a very critical person and I’m trying to change my ways. As I went to shake her hand and exit she mentioned that she was going my way, she had to check her mail. She lived there. I wanted to give her one of those “it’s gonna be arright baby” hugs. So the quest for higher living continues. *sigh

Appendix II

O.K. still looking. I have an appointment at a place seven blocks up from where we are now yet on the same street I lived on two years ago, not the same hundred, but the same named street. The funny thing about it Micki mentioned a place in the same block last week and I scoffed at her. So in desperation I decide to try it, no harm no foul. So we had breakfast at XS Cafe and time was running out, so I decided to choke down my food and go see the appointment and call Micki if the place was worth seeing. I leave the swank restaurant and as I head north it gets worse and worse. So I enter the block and immediatelyI’m like hell naw! It was some bros. on the other side of the street, one yelled like he knew who I was, I didn’t recognize him, I really can’t see– and I don’t remember faces so I just replied “yo, what up dawg” and kept moving. I see where the apartment is and you know me and holding appointments so I decide to humor the landlord. I ring all the bells– no answer–great I’m out. This ends this story besides the crackhead below chilling on the corner with two homeboys africanus. I took pictures of her, not of them, I aint no punk but I also aint no fool.