Tag: apartment

I’ve come to realize that if there’s a difficulty that’s ever arose in your life, it’s happened to Larry David or Jerry Seinfeld.

Across the two TV comedies Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm, you’ll find yourself a part in the situational comedy that befalls the characters in each show almost every day, if you’re paying attention.

In the most recent case of Seinfeldian situational dilemma for me, I’ve been apartment hunting for almost three months. This was a topic of discussion in two earlier episodes of Seinfeld: Season 1’s “The Robbery” and Season 2’s “The Apartment.”

In every case of apartment I looked for, there was always something wrong with it. Bedroom too small or living room too small. Utilities too expensive or rent too expensive. Not renovated recently or coin-operated laundry. Smelled funny or the previous owner ripped cigs inside to hide a funny smell.

For those reasons or others, I couldn’t find the perfect place…until I did.

The vibes were great heading into the place. To set the scene: I had gone to a baseball game the day before, my team won a game in the 9th in walk-off fashion, the beers were flowing, and I sang blink’s Aliens Exist at a karaoke bar deep into the night. To this point, I had seen like 15 apartments, but I knew we had to have been getting to the end of the line.

I show up to the place the next morning and it’s gorgeous. Renovated last year, brand new appliances, new hardwood floors, central air, dishwasher, in-unit laundry, a parking spot, easy walk to the train, good food nearby, the works.

My roommate and I filled out applications that night. Those came with a stiff $100 application fee, but we didn’t care because the place was worth it.

Less than 24 hours later, we get denied because somebody else was willing to move in earlier. No $5000, no flip of a coin or Odds and Evens, just straight up nope. Plus, the application fee was non-refundable so I wiped my ass with $100.

I was furious. For about 20 short hours, I was done. No more Zillow, no more showings, no more odd-smelling places, just a new home.

Now, I’m rapid firing off requests to even shittier places once again. Places I know aren’t going to be as good as the place I saw.

I spent the next few days just going from showing to showing. Even walking around in the poisonous Canadian air that had made its way south for an hour to find the right place. That wasn’t even worth it because I knew I wasn’t going to find a place as nice as the one I had seen and now I have early onset Canadian breathing problems.

I had started to lose hope, so I retreated to a tradition that I love: I went to go see a movie. Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny as a matter of fact. However, my poor luck continued. As soon as I got in line to grab my ritual movie snack (Buncha Crunch and a Big Cherry Coke) these three kids right in front of me grabbed the last three boxes. If the week hadn’t already been a Seinfeld episode, there you go.

I should’ve taken the Buncha Crunch as if it were a Marble Rye:

So I’m sitting in the theater watching a decently entertaining movie, but I’m fuming because I didn’t get my chocolate and I didn’t get my apartment. What’s next? Am I going to go blind? (That’s a story for another day)

But as luck would have it, I broke even.

During the movie, I had gotten a text from the owner of the perfect apartment asking if we’d still be willing to take it. I couldn’t have said yes faster. And just so we’re clear, I waited until after the movie to check my phone because WE ARE LIVING IN A SOCIETY!

Now, I’ve got the perfect apartment, I just have to get all my shit in there which I’m beginning to do today.

I wish you luck in your apartment hunt if you’re on one, you’re going to need it.

~DS