New Apartment

New Apartment



Recently, my apartment got a sex change and turned condo. Unfortunately, I didn't take this news as an opportunity to move into a cheaper place.

Sure, I could have saved $450 a month, maybe had to put up with a little more brick walls for view and a little less pure peach fuzz for carpet, but I opted to blow a grand a month on a death trap with a great view.

Behold: a view of the great and majestic Space Needle, framed perfectly in my new sliding glass window. Yet, beyond this sliding glass window is a six story drop from a rickety porch, and inside is a man of 29 who is deathly afraid of heights.

I began barricading the door last Saturday. My entertainment system, a deadbolt, a large dowel, and sharpened bamboo sticks prevent anyone from going out on the ledge of doom to enjoy the view.

$450.00 of my rent is being paid just for the fucking view that is now behind the large movie screen I've dropped in front of the slider.

But, up top, there's a roof that's nicely gated in, in case I want to look at pretty much any part of the #15th greatest skyline in the world.

It's true.

That sinkhole, L.A., isn't even on the list.

Good God! I hate L.A. Just the idea of it.

But, we need to concentrate on how I'm paying $1000 a month to probably drunkenly stumble to my death.

It's not just the plunge of doom that greets me each morning; it's much more.

Non-Existent Fireplace and Fitness Center: Both of these exist, if you were to take RENT.COM's word for it. Yes, there are fireplaces, but not in my $1000 a month studio. And, yes, there is a fitness center, but it's two blocks away and will cost me $45 a month to visit. But, because I'm part of the complex, I get a free month! The same free month everyone gets in their mail along with the adverts for contact lenses, windshields, and Mexican food.

Dirty liars! Thieves!

But, there's more – the little things: the vinyl and plastic barriers that assume you know they won't hold more than 100 pounds before they give way to a six story drop, the smell of some unknown dog, the ear piercing whine of some appliance I don't own, the sun blasting me awake at 5 in the morning like a neutron bomb, the sink that drips like a syphilitic penis, the maintenance man who assures me all this will be fixed the day after tomorrow (everyday), the parking spots that are easy to pull into, the parking spots that, while easy to pull into, are impossible to pull out of, the paper thin walls, the $900 rent, the $99 parking, the…

Look, I made a bad move.

The lesson here is: I'm an arrogant prick with a small penis. Why else would I blow so much money on an apartment that's only grace is that I can show women the great view? Tell them that "Well, it's $900 a month, but it's only a studio." To cluck my tongue and let the world know that I "Enjoy the finer things in life." Yes, this shitty studio is my penis car. I imagine, when I go bald, I'll supplement it with a Porsche with no engine.

Once again, I have proved that I am everyone I hate.

DAMN ME! DAMN ME ALL TO HELL!

All right. I've had my moment.

Bottom line: I'm a douche.