This Would Never Happen on House Hunters...

True Story...

I just moved into a new house. I could write blog after blog about moving. I'm 25 years old and I've moved 14 times. That means that during my quarter of a century on this planet I have averaged a move to a new home once every 1.8 years.

Moving... sucks.

That being said, the one part about moving I like is looking at place after place and then finally finding that perfect home.

Looking for houses... fun.

This is a true story about looking for a perfect new home for boyfriend and I. Now boyfriend, as much as I love him and he is a wonderful person, I kinda want to punch him 80% of the time during the whole moving process. Luckily, just over four years ago LSU Friend came into my life. Our friendship revolves around alcohol, swimming holes, and moving. She has always been there for me during my moves, and I think I have been there for her as well. This is the story of LSU friend and I looking the perfect apartment in Terrytown.

List of Things Boyfriend and I wanted in a New Home
1. Central Austin (to us this means 78704 on the Mopac side, Clarksville, or Terrytown)
2. Large dog friendly (we want to get a Great Dane)
3. Character (we want a cute house)
4. At least 700 sq ft
5. Washer/Dryer
6. Yard

This whole crazy affair started because I saw a promising ad on Craigslist for a one bedroom on Enfield in out price range, big dogs good. I called. I introduced myself and Craigslist Guy says, "Yeah we can totally check out that apartment you saw on line, but I just found out that this other place came availiable today and it's the best place in Terrytown for the money." In fact Craigslist Guy says this at least two more times during the four minute phone call. "The best place." "You'll love it." "They never become available." So on and so on. LSU Friend and I excitedly get in the car and meet him that afternoon.

Strike Number One: Craigslist Guy is an apartment locator. I hate apartment locators. I don't have luck with them. They only take you to large complexes. They don't listen. They just want you to live where they can get the best pay. I just have absolutely no patients for them. Blah... I turn to LSU girl and give her the dagger "somehow this is all your fault" eyes, but she is already stepping out of the car and extending her hand.

Strike Number Two: OMFG!!!! I just realized we are at the small complex off Enfield and Exposition where my friend Ford lives. This is where Ford sleeps, eats, bathes, and... I don't know... knits when he isn't at his job. What does Ford do??? He's a freaking realtor and apartment locator because evidently my life is turning into a crappy sitcom!!! Laugh track in all. Now, not only did I not call him and let him know I was moving because I think his profession is kinda shitty. Not only did I go behind his back and use some random Craigslist Guy to find me a home. I'm going to end up living here and it will all come out that I'm a bad friend and a horrible person. I am thinking this because honestly I have already decided that we will live here. Why? Because Craigslist Guy has assured me that it's the greatest place in God's whole Terrytown Kingdom.

Strike Number Three: Apartment Manager is wearing jort cut offs. (And not ironically.)

Dispite my annoyance with Craigslist Guy, my guilt that Ford will walk around the corner at any moment and catch me cheating on him with another apartment locator, and the jort situation, LSU friend and I are still excited to see the place. It's in the corner and we all walk past a very cute little pool and courtyard on our way to go see it. While we are walking Apartment Manager is telling me that the girl who lives their just put in her notice of vacancy that morning. She is breaking the lease to buy a house and I am told numerous time by Craigslist Guy and Apartment Manager that it is my lucky day and this place will be gone by tomorrow. AWESOME!!! I'm so excited to see it. LSU friend is excited. We are all on agreement this must me my lucky day. By now we have safely walked the 50 feet past the pool and made it to the "this is the best day of your life, you're going to crap yourself when you see this, it's kinda like you won the lottery, you're welcome from God" apartment.

Door opens.

5 seconds later: We all step in and allow our eyes to adjust to the darkness because all the blinds and curtains are pulled shut.
10 seconds later: Craigslist guy finally finds the light, which only illuminates a small standing lamp in the far corner. It's still very dim in "the most bad ass apartment ever", but we are starting to see again.
11 seconds later: "What is that?" I ask in the general direction of Apartment Manager while I point to a large pile of... something in the middle of the living room floor.
14 seconds later: "Is it dog food?" Craigslist Guy inquires, ear brows raising.
15 seconds later: "Um, more did that dog have an accendent? A very large accident? And where is the dog then?" I'm starting to get a little creeped out.
20 seconds later: We all move towards the mystery pile.
22 seconds later: "Oh My God! I'm going to throw up!!!" LSU Friend screams and runs out the door.
23 seconds later: Craigslist Guy turns to make sure LSU Friend is okay, and I finally get close enough to see what exactly is making up this platter size pile in the middle of this girl's apartment.

Cockroaches. Dead Cockroaches. All swept together in a nice neat pile in the middle of the living room floor. Estimation 70 to 80 dead cockroaches.

yeah...

70 TO 80 DEAD COCKROACHES!!!!!!!

Now, I don't exactly think I'm a squeamish girl. I like to fish, and when I fish I hook and unhook anything I catch. My freshmen year of college I let my then boyfriend keep his pet snakes in my house and I actually grew very fond of them. Having the snakes meant I also kept dead mice and rats in my freezer. I can handle some icky things and situations.

I CANNOT HANDLE 70 TO 80 DEAD COCKROACHES!!!!

Supposedly I walked around the rest of the apartment. I remember not wanting to open any closet doors in the bedroom, and once I got into the kitchen and I saw the 3 live cockroaches trapped at the bottom of a clear glass pitcher I was done. Took one last look at the pile of roaches (because at that point it was kinda like a train wreck that I couldn't look away from) and walked out the door.

Outside Apartment Manager was bright red and apologizing profusely, in between shaking his head in disbalief. Craigslist Guy is telling me over and over again how he has never heard of anyone living here having a bug problem. LSU Friend is looking green. And me? Honestly I'm trying to keep from laughing. There is no way in hell I'm living here, but I'm trying to put myself in Apartment Manager's shoes and I do feel bad for him. He shouldn't have shown me the place without inspecting it first. I know he was thinking, "This is the last time I do a favor for Craigslist Guy". My cheeks are burning because I don't want to make the scene anymore awkward by laughing.

Then this happens...

Apartment Manager: "Hey Ed!" Gesturing for some older tenant who was checking his mail to come over. "Ed. Do you have a bug problem?"
Ed: "Bug problem?"
Apartment Manager: "Yeah, do see roaches in your place."
Ed: "Yeah sure. I see 'em all the time."
Me: "AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!" (I just couldn't hold it in.)

As LSU Friend and I left, never to return again, she looked at me and said, "If you live here I will never step foot into your place." My mind was made up right there. LSU Friend is responsible for at least half the the alcohol I consume and probably 20% responsible for me getting shit face drunk. There is no way I'm loosing LSU friend.

"I'll keep looking."


P.S. No, we never found out why someone would sweep 70 to 80 dead cockroaches into a pile in the middle of the living room floor and not pick them up. It's one of life's little mysteries.

P.S.S. Boyfriend and I have being living in a nice little duplex for about a month now in Clarksville. I have yet to see one bug, dead or alive, in the house. (Knock on wood.)