The Moose in the Closet: Man Alone: Apartment Hunting

The lease for the studio apartment was up and I was tasked to find us an affordable one-bedroom apartment. Robin put a lot of faith in me with this one and I squandered it by going with the first apartment I saw.

It was in Southwest DC. Let me lay out DC for you. You want to live in Northeast DC or certain parts of Southeast DC. The other parts of Southeast DC are the worst parts of the district in terms of crime, Northeast DC is a vast area of nothingness and not-as-bad crime, and Southwest DC is a deceptive son-of-a-bitch with little pockets of nice areas surrounded by low-income housing.

The apartment I went with was on the edge of one of these pockets. 201 I St SW. The management office was in this nice little area, surrounded by brownstones and well-populated by trees. It was close to the Orange and Green lines, primo positioning for commutes and going out at night.

I went to see the apartment – it wasn’t that bad, really. Lots of space, hardwood floors, and a balcony. Kitchen was a bit shabby – aluminum cabinets and a crusty gas stove – but I wasn’t a big cooker at that point, anyway. The residents were typical of an in-the-process-of –being-gentrified neighborhood. Old folks living off social security, couple of low-income types protected by rent control, and a fair share of yuppies looking for a good deal on the place.

It was $900 a month for an almost 1000-square foot apartment with a balcony. I took it without hesitation. Told Robin about it.

“Southwest?”

“Yeah, southwest – it’s fine.”

“Isn’t southwest like southeast?”

“No – it’s fine, it’s right by the Mall. We can go to museums all the time.” (We didn’t.)

“I don’t know.”

“It even has a pool.” (That we never used.)

“Well – it’s a short lease, right?”

“Six months.”

“Ok – I trust you.”

Sucker.

The day before moving day I went to pick up the keys. My boy Max offered to drive me to the management office. I tell him the address but with the Mall fucking up your ability to drive we ended up at 201 I St SE – my first time in the “bad part” of Southeast. Max asks me, “You sure you live here” before I realized we were in the wrong neighborhood. It looked like Compton – straight-up. I’ll never forget this one house that had this disgusting mattress draped over a clothesline in the front yard, some kid sitting next to it smoking.

I realize we’re in Southeast and yell to Max, “No – this is Southeast, turn around.”

Turns out I was only about seven blocks away from there.

Get the keys and go to show Max the apartment. It’s a little darker now. In the dark, the roaches come out. The scamper all over that kitchen like they own the fucking place. But they don’t own the kitchen. The mice do.

Let me tell what Robin’s afraid of. Mice. Bugs. I knew I was in a lot of trouble. But I figured I could get rid of them all before she gets back. We’re not dirty people, they won’t come back. Right.

Max goes on my balcony and lets me know it overlooks the ghetto. I verify his claim – it’s the first time we see the “ice cream truck” that prowls I St at late hours with no song playing. There’re never kids standing near it.

I figure it’s fine – Robin’s a tough chick and worst case scenario is we stay there for six months. Now I just needed to move.

Labels: mitc

Man Alone: Apartment Hunting

Thursday, June 29, 2006

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