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I was hoping that you'd know better
Aug. 1st, 2003 09:58 amI might be the only pers on in the world besides your mom who likes the songs “Nobody Wants to be Lonely” and “That’s the Way It Is”. But that’s okay -- it will give us something to talk about when i go to your house for the holidays.
So, uh, yeah, I sort of have a new apartment. There’s still the matter of the employment verification but by the end of today I should be approved. I would worry about jinxing myself except if it falls through, while I might be disappointed because this place is absolutely fabulous, I feel confident I’d find something else seeing as everywhere I go there are “for rent” signs.
The apartment search yesterday. Lordy day. I’m generally a fan of these apartment-finding services because even though their selection is somewhat limited, they do so much of the work for you. I’ve done the whole “call every number on every sign/ad and try to line up appointments” route and it’s tedious and frustrating. So, I dropped by downstairs even though I suspected they wouldn’t have too much to offer in my price range. Sure enough, he struggled to find five or six places, and most of them were even fifty bucks above what I said my limit was, but he assured me they could negotiate down. Whatever. I’m just along for the ride.
I thought this guy was gay, but he threw me off by wearing a gold band on his left hand, which I do know plenty of married fags who do this, but he seemed to young to fit that typical profile. We hopped in his SUV (of course) and I ended up giving him directions EVERYwhere because he just graduated from college probably three months ago in Champaign and didn’t know the city at all. He printed off all these mapquest directions but didn’t realize the difference between 4244 NORTH Wolcott and 4244 SOUTH Wolcott. Um, yeah, you guys don’t rent apartments that far south so don’t go playing like you know what you’re doing.
He may have been grateful for my directional expertise since he didn’t have to think too hard about where he was going while he chatted it up with me about everything from gay bars in Champaign to dance music to the new bar Hydrate and to his dream job of being a contracter/designer for rehabbing buildings. Oh, and snowboarding. As you can maybe imagine, I was often bored to tears.
And of course he suffered from the major problem that all of these apartment-search people have which goes beyond major yuppie disease and is more about these people being on the frontline in the gentrification war. I mean, we were driving around Humboldt Park and he did this three-point turn and made some disparaging remark about these two guys sitting on milk crates on the sidewalk by his car (“these guys seem lovely”), then two blocks later he’s all “I really love this neighborhood...it’s so open and less congested and has all these neat boutiques moving in !”
I hate boutiques.
But despite himself, he did show me this great space, completely redone, drastically reduced in price, and conveniently located (not too far from the intersection of California and North Ave). It felt right. I wasn’t planning on writing a check, but I did. Whatever worst-case scenario might transpire from doing so, I have faith I’ll survive.
This morning I’m taking Lowenstein to look at it. I’m concerned the apartment service people might be annoyed about me using them as a taxi service since they work on commission, but they can always just loan me the keys and I can drive myself.
So, uh, yeah, I sort of have a new apartment. There’s still the matter of the employment verification but by the end of today I should be approved. I would worry about jinxing myself except if it falls through, while I might be disappointed because this place is absolutely fabulous, I feel confident I’d find something else seeing as everywhere I go there are “for rent” signs.
The apartment search yesterday. Lordy day. I’m generally a fan of these apartment-finding services because even though their selection is somewhat limited, they do so much of the work for you. I’ve done the whole “call every number on every sign/ad and try to line up appointments” route and it’s tedious and frustrating. So, I dropped by downstairs even though I suspected they wouldn’t have too much to offer in my price range. Sure enough, he struggled to find five or six places, and most of them were even fifty bucks above what I said my limit was, but he assured me they could negotiate down. Whatever. I’m just along for the ride.
I thought this guy was gay, but he threw me off by wearing a gold band on his left hand, which I do know plenty of married fags who do this, but he seemed to young to fit that typical profile. We hopped in his SUV (of course) and I ended up giving him directions EVERYwhere because he just graduated from college probably three months ago in Champaign and didn’t know the city at all. He printed off all these mapquest directions but didn’t realize the difference between 4244 NORTH Wolcott and 4244 SOUTH Wolcott. Um, yeah, you guys don’t rent apartments that far south so don’t go playing like you know what you’re doing.
He may have been grateful for my directional expertise since he didn’t have to think too hard about where he was going while he chatted it up with me about everything from gay bars in Champaign to dance music to the new bar Hydrate and to his dream job of being a contracter/designer for rehabbing buildings. Oh, and snowboarding. As you can maybe imagine, I was often bored to tears.
And of course he suffered from the major problem that all of these apartment-search people have which goes beyond major yuppie disease and is more about these people being on the frontline in the gentrification war. I mean, we were driving around Humboldt Park and he did this three-point turn and made some disparaging remark about these two guys sitting on milk crates on the sidewalk by his car (“these guys seem lovely”), then two blocks later he’s all “I really love this neighborhood...it’s so open and less congested and has all these neat boutiques moving in !”
I hate boutiques.
But despite himself, he did show me this great space, completely redone, drastically reduced in price, and conveniently located (not too far from the intersection of California and North Ave). It felt right. I wasn’t planning on writing a check, but I did. Whatever worst-case scenario might transpire from doing so, I have faith I’ll survive.
This morning I’m taking Lowenstein to look at it. I’m concerned the apartment service people might be annoyed about me using them as a taxi service since they work on commission, but they can always just loan me the keys and I can drive myself.
