I do inappropriate things, all of the time
So, I am trying to rent out my apartment. And I may have done something terrible - I have been in a mood recently.
Hi! I have an apartment. You should rent it. Because I can’t afford two apartments, but mostly because it will rock your socks off (disclaimer: not literally).
It is a large studio in Ravenswood/Lincoln Square.
Apartment Features:
- FREE heat!
- Two large rooms - I used one for sleeping/living and one for cooking/eating/book storage, but you can use them for whatever you want, I suppose. If you want to sleep next to the refrigerator you totally could. And there is a bathroom with a tub/shower (also fairly comfortable for sleeping). And a big walk-in closet. And a pantry closet.
- Lots of windows. Also, the windows don’t face directly into somebody’s apartment. You know what that means: naked indoor sunbathing!
- There is laundry, a bike room, and a storage unit on the premises.
- Safety. In over a year I have never, ever - even once - almost feared for my life. I never had any problems with murders or robbers nor did I see a single zombie, shark, or supernatural monster.
- Furthermore, I have a very theoretical zombie survival plan that doesn’t involve pants. (Hint: it requires bricks.)
- Cats are welcome!
Neighborhood Features (besides all of the pure awesomeness):
- It is close (within 2.5 blocks) of the Damen Brownline, the Ravenswood Metra Station, and several bus lines (the highlights - the 145 Express and the 24hr Lawrence lines).
- Abundant street parking (mostly permit only). Even if you aren’t that responsible and come home slightly inebriated at 4 AM (not that I do this, mom, because I am way too busy praying and saving orphans), there is always parking within a block if not right out front. Also, as a side note, I am not judging you for not measuring up to my orphan-saving example. Saving orphans is not a requirement for renting this apartment.
- Safety (see above about the supernatural monsters/robbers and then the parking).
- Within easy walking distance of the Lincoln Square strip (it has everything from restaurants to a movie theater) and two parks (Welles and Winnemac).
Rent is $700 a month and it is available until the end of Feb. 2011 (and then you could resign the lease) or possibly for a completely new lease.
Thanks!
And then this guy wrote me about it.
This is what he said:
To you,
It took me some time to figure out who to address this to. Inebriated Orphan Saver came to mind, as did Zombie slayer. I went with "To you", which also doubles as my favorite Whitman poem. However, this is all irrelevant. I am writing you in regards to the apartment I found on craigslist. Are you still looking to find a tenant? If so, I'm obviously interested. It's off the Damen Brown line.
I just spent about 20 minutes writing about myself and job history. Then I realized I should wait to see if you respond. Man I'm silly.
Which, I am sorry to say, riled me up. And then this happened:
While I didn't put this in the actual ad, mostly because I thought this would make me sound too - I don't know - like a liberal, hippy, stuffy-pants type (which I am not, 'cause I hate pants and own a shit ton of black clothes), but I mostly work with very young children with developmental problems. True story. Orphan saving and inebriation is just a hobby, so I don't answer to any combination of those names. The proper form of address - the one I normally answer to - is Awesomepants. Or Rachel, I suppose. But that last one generally has to be said with an inflection of irritation or I will think that you are talking to somebody else.
Also, as I stated very clearly in my ad (I thought, anyways - I was drinking when I wrote it and with all of the prescription medications that I am on, I am often a bit fuzzy about what I have done. Also, I hate proofreading), my zombie-slaying plans are very theoretical. And when I hinted that they involve bricks, I meant that you would have to carry bricks up the stairs and throw them out the window and hope to hit the zombies square on the head as they try to figure out how to work the door. But the door is directly below my window, with a couple stories in between (which only adds to the force of the brick in head - I learned that in physics.), so basic science says that if you aren't too lazy and too drunk, you probably won't die. Which is why Zombie Slayer is also an inappropriate form of address.
I might still be looking for a tenant. I say might because a very nice lady came by and said she wanted it and I emailed her the application. However, she hasn't sent in the application nor been approved, so experience tells me that I shouldn't say that I actually have a tenant. I have found that apartment renting is exactly like dating - you know how when you meet a seemingly nice dude (or dudette - I am not picky don't judge) at some late night joint and you take them home and do things that your grandmother would never approve of, you shouldn't call your mother the very next morning and tell her you are getting married? Like, you should probably wait until they call you back, and not call you back for their wallet (which you have hidden under your mattress, in order to make them call you back). Or for a second date, one that is to an actual restaurant or movie and not to an alley or the back seat of a car. Yeah. Renting apartments is exactly like that. You don't count your chickens before they are hatched.
And I am glad you are interested. If you are still interested despite the fact that this chick may or may not send in an application at any moment, I will be very happy to show you the apartment.
Also, I am very pleased that you have a work history. Kudos! And, I suppose, a personal history. Again, kudos! You can share them with me, if you want - I am interested in your version and not just the one that I will construct for you from a quick google search and my own personal experiences - but the application will go to my landlord and I don't actually have much say. This is to say that you don't have to tell me anything, if you don't want to. But I might decide that you are, say, an amateur boxer that participates in underground cage matches to pay for school (where you are, of course, majoring in Philosophy - minor in Creative Writing). To seem legit (and to explain your bruises) you work in a violent in-patient mental ward as an aide. You mostly dispense medication and you mostly don't keep the medication to sell on the streets - because you are a really nice guy.
I will also give you a 15 minute head start - starting right now - to delete all of the embarrassing stuff off of the internet before I do my quick googling. Your welcome.
Anyway, let me know if you want to see the apartment and what times you would be available to do this.
Thank you very much,
Rachel
P.S. My version of your life story is not copyrighted - you may use it as you feel appropriate. However, I must point out that because you are a boxer, you need to be able to back it up with your fists (and bruises).
Basically, now Riley is ignoring me because I am lying on the internet (I know, I don't understand why I have to be the exception either) and thinks I am digging myself into a hole that I will not be able to get out of. And I am a little self-satisfied. And, Riley, slightly ashamed because of the dishonesty and the fact that I am not taking this seriously. But mostly pleased with myself (see, that is not lying. I'm just practicing).
Hi! I have an apartment. You should rent it. Because I can’t afford two apartments, but mostly because it will rock your socks off (disclaimer: not literally).
It is a large studio in Ravenswood/Lincoln Square.
Apartment Features:
- FREE heat!
- Two large rooms - I used one for sleeping/living and one for cooking/eating/book storage, but you can use them for whatever you want, I suppose. If you want to sleep next to the refrigerator you totally could. And there is a bathroom with a tub/shower (also fairly comfortable for sleeping). And a big walk-in closet. And a pantry closet.
- Lots of windows. Also, the windows don’t face directly into somebody’s apartment. You know what that means: naked indoor sunbathing!
- There is laundry, a bike room, and a storage unit on the premises.
- Safety. In over a year I have never, ever - even once - almost feared for my life. I never had any problems with murders or robbers nor did I see a single zombie, shark, or supernatural monster.
- Furthermore, I have a very theoretical zombie survival plan that doesn’t involve pants. (Hint: it requires bricks.)
- Cats are welcome!
Neighborhood Features (besides all of the pure awesomeness):
- It is close (within 2.5 blocks) of the Damen Brownline, the Ravenswood Metra Station, and several bus lines (the highlights - the 145 Express and the 24hr Lawrence lines).
- Abundant street parking (mostly permit only). Even if you aren’t that responsible and come home slightly inebriated at 4 AM (not that I do this, mom, because I am way too busy praying and saving orphans), there is always parking within a block if not right out front. Also, as a side note, I am not judging you for not measuring up to my orphan-saving example. Saving orphans is not a requirement for renting this apartment.
- Safety (see above about the supernatural monsters/robbers and then the parking).
- Within easy walking distance of the Lincoln Square strip (it has everything from restaurants to a movie theater) and two parks (Welles and Winnemac).
Rent is $700 a month and it is available until the end of Feb. 2011 (and then you could resign the lease) or possibly for a completely new lease.
Thanks!
And then this guy wrote me about it.
This is what he said:
To you,
It took me some time to figure out who to address this to. Inebriated Orphan Saver came to mind, as did Zombie slayer. I went with "To you", which also doubles as my favorite Whitman poem. However, this is all irrelevant. I am writing you in regards to the apartment I found on craigslist. Are you still looking to find a tenant? If so, I'm obviously interested. It's off the Damen Brown line.
I just spent about 20 minutes writing about myself and job history. Then I realized I should wait to see if you respond. Man I'm silly.
Which, I am sorry to say, riled me up. And then this happened:
While I didn't put this in the actual ad, mostly because I thought this would make me sound too - I don't know - like a liberal, hippy, stuffy-pants type (which I am not, 'cause I hate pants and own a shit ton of black clothes), but I mostly work with very young children with developmental problems. True story. Orphan saving and inebriation is just a hobby, so I don't answer to any combination of those names. The proper form of address - the one I normally answer to - is Awesomepants. Or Rachel, I suppose. But that last one generally has to be said with an inflection of irritation or I will think that you are talking to somebody else.
Also, as I stated very clearly in my ad (I thought, anyways - I was drinking when I wrote it and with all of the prescription medications that I am on, I am often a bit fuzzy about what I have done. Also, I hate proofreading), my zombie-slaying plans are very theoretical. And when I hinted that they involve bricks, I meant that you would have to carry bricks up the stairs and throw them out the window and hope to hit the zombies square on the head as they try to figure out how to work the door. But the door is directly below my window, with a couple stories in between (which only adds to the force of the brick in head - I learned that in physics.), so basic science says that if you aren't too lazy and too drunk, you probably won't die. Which is why Zombie Slayer is also an inappropriate form of address.
I might still be looking for a tenant. I say might because a very nice lady came by and said she wanted it and I emailed her the application. However, she hasn't sent in the application nor been approved, so experience tells me that I shouldn't say that I actually have a tenant. I have found that apartment renting is exactly like dating - you know how when you meet a seemingly nice dude (or dudette - I am not picky don't judge) at some late night joint and you take them home and do things that your grandmother would never approve of, you shouldn't call your mother the very next morning and tell her you are getting married? Like, you should probably wait until they call you back, and not call you back for their wallet (which you have hidden under your mattress, in order to make them call you back). Or for a second date, one that is to an actual restaurant or movie and not to an alley or the back seat of a car. Yeah. Renting apartments is exactly like that. You don't count your chickens before they are hatched.
And I am glad you are interested. If you are still interested despite the fact that this chick may or may not send in an application at any moment, I will be very happy to show you the apartment.
Also, I am very pleased that you have a work history. Kudos! And, I suppose, a personal history. Again, kudos! You can share them with me, if you want - I am interested in your version and not just the one that I will construct for you from a quick google search and my own personal experiences - but the application will go to my landlord and I don't actually have much say. This is to say that you don't have to tell me anything, if you don't want to. But I might decide that you are, say, an amateur boxer that participates in underground cage matches to pay for school (where you are, of course, majoring in Philosophy - minor in Creative Writing). To seem legit (and to explain your bruises) you work in a violent in-patient mental ward as an aide. You mostly dispense medication and you mostly don't keep the medication to sell on the streets - because you are a really nice guy.
I will also give you a 15 minute head start - starting right now - to delete all of the embarrassing stuff off of the internet before I do my quick googling. Your welcome.
Anyway, let me know if you want to see the apartment and what times you would be available to do this.
Thank you very much,
Rachel
P.S. My version of your life story is not copyrighted - you may use it as you feel appropriate. However, I must point out that because you are a boxer, you need to be able to back it up with your fists (and bruises).
Basically, now Riley is ignoring me because I am lying on the internet (I know, I don't understand why I have to be the exception either) and thinks I am digging myself into a hole that I will not be able to get out of. And I am a little self-satisfied. And, Riley, slightly ashamed because of the dishonesty and the fact that I am not taking this seriously. But mostly pleased with myself (see, that is not lying. I'm just practicing).