The Old Apartment

And as soon as I typed it, I now have that song from the Bare Naked Ladies in my head. Awesome. This is going to be a quick one even though it has been forever since I last posted. Damn micro blogging (aka. Twitter) has sated my need to update the world on what I’m doing, which is actually a good thing as it leaves this forum open for a more meaningful discourse.

But not today. Tonight rather I am trying not to allow my rage to bubble over. That’s right: rage. I was originally going to tweet about it, but I didn’t feel that was going to be effective enough. I want this to be properly indexed on the web. For those outside of my close contacts (which unfortunately doesn’t include as many people as it should) I am moving soon. Probably tomorrow, but on paper at the end of the month. If you take anything away from this post, it is: do not live in “Flores” 122 Harbour Road in Paget, Bermuda. Ever.

As such, my current landlord is understandably trying to show my current place to potential tenants. I have been quite accommodating, cleaning up on sometimes less than the required 24 hours. Not that cleaning is actually a requirement of his ability to enter the premises, but that is beside the point. I am from the Maritimes, and as such I try to be courteous. But I too have limits, and those limits have been tested. It is times like this I am reminded of why I don’t drink.

Again, if we’ve spoken much since I’ve lived here, you know that this place is a bit of a dump. An extremely over priced dump. But my landlord thinks that it can sparkle (yes, he used that word). Because of this, he wants none of my things out when he shows it. I’m sure that he would prefer that my computer be boxed up, as he asked me to do just that when I went to Vancouver (I can talk about that trip later). And I do put things away. To a reasonable amount in that my clothes are where they should be and nothing is awkwardly laying about. I guess our concepts of tidy are different as he repeatedly will put away my three framed photos of family and friends that I keep on a table in the living room. He will hide my flip flops, he will tuck away the single Glade candle that I have beside my bed. Literally anything that isn’t the mismatching furniture and tacky art have been hidden for me to find when I return.

And each time I’m a bit pissed off but I keep telling myself that I’ll be out of here soon, close my eyes and go to my happy place. Which is basically not here. And since he is still showing it, I can only assume that he hasn’t found anyone. This is because the place speaks for itself and it is a renters market at the moment, which it wasn’t this time last year. This place could sit empty for months. The irony is, in a place like this that isn’t new and clean, you need those personal items of the current tenant to be out and around and make the place look lived in. Make a person relate to living there, give them something to picture in their heads. But they have been hiding that and it is contributing to their lack of success. Whatever.

The straw came tonight after returning home from a long day and late night movie. I entered the apartment in the dark and went over to the lamp to grope around for the foot switch. It is usually easy to find as it is in the same spot. Not tonight, it is back against the wall—a landlord special. The adrenaline starts flowing as I remove helmet and jacket. He was in. He was in and messed about with my stuff again, and he didn’t tell me about it before hand. He’d handled my pillows, my clothes, my suitcase and I was/am pissed.

They say not to email angry, and I am trying to evaluate this post through more rational eyes. I still see me posting it, and if you are reading this, then clearly I have. This has been building up in what has to be one of the oddest, most disruptive landlord-tenant relationships ever. For me anyway, because I know there is some weird stuff out there. So all I really want to do is spare someone the trouble of living here. There were two of us as tenants in this unit over the past year, and it was a sub par experience on both accounts. I don’t know what price they are asking, but even if it is half of what they are currently getting, it is too much. The only way I would consider staying is if it were free. Even then…

Bottom line: stay away from “Flores” 122 Harbour Road, Paget, Bermuda. Thanks for hearing me out. :)

PS: Transformers 2 was fantastic. Suck it critics.