‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ was the first thought coming to my mind when I entered the bedroom of the apartment I was taking a look at today. Okay, let us be clear – the 12th district is definitely not my paradise district but I thought compromising might not just make me a better person but might pay its tribute to my sudden positive attitude. Which, by the way turned back negative the immediate second I saw the living room furniture.
It wouldn’t have been any kind of problem if I would have been allowed to kill all the furniture kicking it out of the apartment and decorating it the way it should have been. I loved the stucco on the ceilings but the table and the sofa and those hideous glass plates in the shelves – how could someone possibly say ‘YES’ to living there without feeling the urgent necessity of throwing everything out. Which I made clear by saying so. The owner obviously didn’t like the idea of me hiring people to throw out all the hideous stuff or, the owner’s wife didn’t like it, is more like it. It was like a storage space for all her hideosities.
The bedroom walls were completely covered in made to measure lockers and one wasn’t even able to see a single centimeter of the walls. I felt a bit claustrophobic to be honest though I usually never have problems with small rooms but this wasn’t just right – it was like living in a cupboard with all the storage possibilities all around and seriously, who, except for Chip the talking teacup from Beauty and the Beast would want that? The kitchen was a ‘made in 1960’ disaster – with the ugliest tapestry I have ever seen in my life. Let me make it clear – a gay guy living in a kitchen with full flower tapestry isn’t a gay guy anymore. It’s a gay guy imploded by his own gayness. Honestly, I would love to keep myself at least a little bit of masculinity.
The moment of realizing that this apartment definitely wasn’t going to be mine was quite hard since I thought that there was a tiny bit of a chance to be moving out of my parents house in early June but well, one can’t always get what one wants the immediate second one wants it. So it is okay with me – another situation that made me grow as an adult a little bit. Now the searching and hunting for a decent apartment goes on and then, once I have found one I can envision myself living in, there will be an ‘On the Hunt’ sequel where everything circles around finding the perfect signature to underline my personality and personal style – classy, elegant, elitist and new age smugness.
If you know a place do not dare to hesitate hooking me up with more details.