Friday, August 17, 2007

Everybody loves a landlord.

Started the epic hunt for somewhere to live that's not my mom's basement today. We had a lunchtime appointment to look at a "large three bedroom" in NE Minneapolis -- near to all workplaces concerned, but away from most pesky undergraduates... or so we thought.

Turns out, the angles in the photos posted online were the two angles
from which the place looked either clean or well maintained. The place had clearly been occupied by undergraduate men for some years, likely handed down each fall in a time-honored passage of the filth ceremony. Thinks that had been "recently updated" looked to have been more recently broken. You get the picture.

Then comes the stunner. The dude who had listed the thing -- who likely knows that we are now becoming more disillusioned by the minute -- shows us the "largest bedroom," in all it's tiny, Hawaiian-wallpapered glory, then tells us we can't see the other two bedrooms because the current tenants are still sleeping in them. But don't worry, he says. They're pretty much the same.

Oh well. Have to start somewhere, right?


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