Hey there Sunshine, my last ray of sanity. Now that school is back and people are scrambling for last minute accommodations, things at Castle Dumpster Fire are a real treat! We are up to FOUR people in this damn house, and FIVE pets (three of which the landlord wasn’t told about, but we’ll get to that in a bit). There is still one room left, and the X and I are still showing it.
Which brings me to a very important point: not enough people are reading my damn blog! I’ve covered EVERYTHING that’s pissing me off right now in past posts, and this shit STILL keeps happening!
First off, to help alleviate some of the stress showing the rooms has put on the X and I, the landlord asked our newest roommate to show the house a few times. Mind you, the Kid had been living there 3 days the first time he showed it, but he answered all the questions he was asked. Only problem was, he didn’t know all the answers, and he didn’t know what information to throw out there to prospective renters. Why, you ask? Because he didn’t read the damn lease through!
Now, if he had read my previously published post Reading and Understanding Your Lease, then he would have known a few things that he really should have brought up: there is no cable or internet included with the house; there is a pet deposit and all pets have to be approved beforehand by the landlord; you can’t have hot plates or bring fridges into your room, and the like. So what happens? The Camouflage Cowboy shows up and moves in, with his two budgies and his super adorable, sweet, soft, fluffy kitten Max (please don’t tell Bowser and Sketch I said any of that)! Now I’ve got a super playful kitten trying to play with Bowser and Sketch, and Sketch is not having it! Poor little floppy butt has made a nest under my bed and hardly ever comes out, and Bowser has gone into full defense mode to protect his brother. The birds were left out on the porch overnight and attacked by a stray cat, so I now have two birds with three legs between them, their cage hanging from out roof overhang, and they never shut up! And CC still owes me 2/3 of the monthly internet cost, btw.
Of course, we’re still showing rooms, and a good 90% of the people responding to the ad have never read about how NOT to be a Colossal Douche when looking for somewhere to rent. Some very basic things like “if you make an appointment to see a place, actually show up” and “don’t track mud through the house by refusing to take your shoes off in the middle of a damn typhoon” seem so simple, but there’s so damn hard for some people!
But the thing that really ruffles my goats is the people who can’t read the damn ad OR the email they get from the landlord about the place. We have one kitchen, 2 bathrooms, 2 common area/living rooms, a dining room, and 5 bedrooms. Each room holds one renter. Rent includes basic utilities, but not cable or internet. Pets need to be pre-approved and there’s a pet deposit. No smoking indoors, no illegal drugs in the house, and it is listed as a “Quiet, Mature House” for serious students and working young adults. Pretty damn simple, eh?
Well two freaking guys show up on my doorstep today, out of the blue. They had emailed the landlord, got the whole basic spiel, and then decided that they knew what house it was by looking at the pictures of the front of it in the ad so they should just show up. Fine, I’m home anyway, may as well show it. I show them the living room upstairs and they start asking “is this our room?”. No dammit, shut up and listen to me! They took issue with there only being one kitchen, having to share a bathroom, there being pets there, and there being a woman living in the house. Then, when I showed them the room they kept saying that “their” room seemed small, and then were trying to decide where the bunk beds would go. They wants 4 freaking people PLUS a fridge, microwave, hot plates, crockpots, and the downstairs bathroom to themselves.
Ya, they’re not moving in. Pretty sure the landlord has lost all hope for humanity after some of the responses to the ad he’s gotten. People try to negotiate the price, or want to move themselves and 3 kids into a small bedroom, or want 6 people in one room. Read the damn ad! And read the info the landlord gives you!
Then there’s the things that should just be common sense when people move in, which they would know if they read my damn blog. Seriously, I’m a treasure trove of crap advice that fucking works. Somehow, after a week of having new roommates, we as a household have forgotten how garbages and recycling work. After working a 13 hour day on Monday, I had the pleasure of pulling bags of rotting food out of the recycling bin so I could sort out the massive pile junk that hadn’t been sorted one bit when it was haphazardly thrown off the back porch and into whatever receptacle was closest. There have been dishes left in the dish rack for days at a time, or left in the sink for days. Counters are sticky, floors are dirty, and I’m apparently the only one who can master the fine art of wielding a toilet brush.
There’s also the issue of people not knowing when to pipe the fuck down. Sunday I got a text message from the landlord that someone was moving in that day. Buddy hadn’t met the X or I at that point, and neither one of us was at home. The Kid let him in, told him I’d be home after 6pm, and left. So there I am on Sunday night, a bit after 6:30pm, sitting on the toilet when I hear the front door slam open and what sounds like Xena Warrior Princess’s battle cry. I come flying out of the bathroom because I never heard that door close and my kitties are in the house, only to be greeted by at least half a dozen strange men. Some douche nozzle in a camouflage cowboy hat comes walking over to me, yammering on about how his friends are all there to help him, and I have no clue who he is. I try to tell him to close the door so the cats don’t get out, and the douche just talks over me and tells me to calm my ass down!
Luckily the little floppy butt Sketch was freaked out and hid under my bed, and the ever protective Bowser Kitten was guarding him, because if those kitties had gotten out I would’ve dropped the Camouflage Cowboy right then and there! The funny thing is, I’m not the only one in this house whose first meeting with CC resulted in nothing but yelling at him to close the door before cats get out. When he came to see the house in the first place, he marched out onto the back porch while the X was out there and just kept talking while X while X was yelling at him to close the goddamn door. What a great first impression, eh? It’s like the guy has never listened to Panic! At The Disco before or something.
I can see all of this going very, very badly. I’ve already had to say some ridiculous things to my grown-ass adult roomates over the years, things that no one should really have to say to a grown-ass adult. I really don’t want to be cleaning food out of the bathtub drain, hunting down my dishes, wipe spilled food off the floor hours after it spilled, and have to teach people that leaving a pot of noodles on the stove for an hour on high usually results in a fire. I’m done, man. I’m tired, I’m stressed, and this is all totally draining. I’m stressed, the cats are stressed, and we’re still going to eventually get one more roommate to add to all this fun.
Maybe it’s time I start looking for my own place.