Wednesday, May 17, 2006

putting the "sub" in "sublet"...

i have one word to describe this sublet of mine: gross.

no, two words: fucking disgusting.

no, howsabout several words: makes dante's various circles of hell look like a merry-go-round.

currently, milo and kenobi and i are hiding out in my summer bedroom. why are we hiding out? because we don't like it here. yeah, it's cheap, but i'm currently being haunted by a never-ending refrain in my head of "you get what you pay for"... not sure what i mean? allow me to elaborate:

1. when i got here to move in, both bedroom doors were closed and i wasn't sure which was mine, so i looked in both. the room that belongs to my summer roommate, whom i'm gonna call "mr. personality", was full of piles of clothes on the floor and a stash of liquor bottles.

2. the whole place smells like boys and bad men's cologne.

3. there was a pubic hair on the toilet seat and i swear the bathroom has never been properly cleaned.

4. under the sink is a can of raid bug spray and a box of glue traps for mice.

5. there are no dishes, no utensils, no pots, no pans. but there is an x-box and a giant TV.

6. my summer bed has a weird dip in it, so i went to flip it over, and in between the mattress and box springs i found: $2.75 in quarters, a fork, a packet of duck sauce, a receipt for the movie theater across the street, a bunch of dirt and a lot of hairs.

7. while looking for kenobi earlier, i looked under the bed. not only did i find her, but i found a whole crapload of, well, trash -- socks, garbage, something that smells really bad.

yeah... is anybody else thinking "implied warranty of habitability" here? basically, this whole place grosses me out. totally grosses me out. i've sprayed the mattress with febreze twice now and i'm still afraid to put my sheets on it. i might just sleep in a chair tonight. i wiped down every surface in the kitchen and bathroom and i threw away a mousetrap that i found that would surely have broken the paw of milo or kenobi, had one of them gotten to it first.

i met mr. personality a little while ago. he informed me that he's cool with the cats, but he's not going to take care of them. uh huh.

a ton of gratitude goes out to amanda, my old roommate, for giving me an excuse to get on my bike and get the hell out of this place for the night. we exchanged gossip, some of which had to be told in code, in case unfriendly folks could overhear. we agreed that, henceforth, whenever code names are needed, we will use the names "he-man" for boys and "she-ra" for girls. or "jem". or whatever.

good times...

2 Comments:

At 7:13 PM, Blogger stephie said...

How the hell does a fork and some duck sauce get underneath a mattress? This I do not understand.

Your situation sounds like the big suck. I'm sorry. Maybe you should get one of those plastic mattress covers. Seriously.

 
At 8:17 PM, Blogger perpetual slacker said...

Hmmm... I'm sort of surprised that you didn't find a condom (used) under the bed, though your description of the roomie leads me to believe that I shouldn't be quite so surprised.

 

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