Yesterday we looked at a property and I almost felt insulted. It was [originally] a lovely house, built in, say, 1940, and really nothing had been done to it since then, besides layer after layer of dirt and grime. And maybe new carpet and curtains in the late 60s. It made me want to cry for the house, it was once lovely, and still had some of it's features like beautiful geometric ceiling roses and decorative bathroom tiling. But everything was filthy and seemingly only held together by the layer of manky paint that might have been added back in the 1980s. The kitchen stove was in the middle of the floor and looked like it had exploded, and the "splashback" was nothing but a dented piece of aluminum nailed to the wall. Grease was caked everywhere. I didn't dare to look in the bathroom, but the Fella assured me it was so horrid that you'd come out feeling dirtier than when you went in. I felt embarrassed for the agent, having to show people this piece of shit. And asking $350 a week for it. But it's a big house and in a great location, she pointed out. I smiled politely and inwardely wept for it's soul. Poor house.
The other thing I REALLY hate about finding a rental home is dealing with real estate agents. I really don't think I've encountered a truthful one in all my life. Yesterday I was pissed off because I rang on Saturday about getting the keys to see a property and was told to come past on Monday. So we show up, only to be told that that property is let and the tenants are actually coming in today to sign the lease. Why waste my time, arseholes? There's another property that I have my eye on that is open tomorrow for viewing, but I have tried twice to arrange an earlier viewing with the agent. The first time he promised to ring me back and never did, and then when I rang yesterday I was told that I can't see it till Wednesday with everyone else because they are apparently "doing work on it." Given the fact that my parents went past the property and were talking to the owner on Sunday, I know this is a blatent lie. The simple fact is that it's a good house at a great price, so the agent knows they'll have no trouble renting it, so he simply can't be fucking bothered. It makes me so angry, you want to tell them to their swarmy faces that they're full of it, but in the interests of potential future business interaction, you can't. GRR and GRRR.
I know I'll look back on this in a month or two and wonder "what were you so worried about?" but right now I'm living it, and it's pissing me off. I so dislike the current place I'm renting, that I'm really concerned about finding a new place that will be home. Because I really need a home right now. Not just somewhere to sleep, eat and watch tv.
home sweet home by patrycja., on Flickr
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