Somehow, the memory of shopping for our very first "grown-up" apartment popped into my head and I erupted in laughter from my office. My poor office mates must have found this very creepy/annoying.
Let me set the stage:
It's 2002 and Dan and I have decided to live together and move into a "real" apartment in Boston. We went to see a real estate agent and asked them to show us some properties. Now, we didn't have all that much scratch so we settled on something "under 1500, maybe more like 1200" for a price range and initially refused to look outside of Boston proper. I don't quite remember how many apartments we were show by this particular agent, but, I do know two things: he drove us around in a car and illegally parked at every stop, and he showed us the most fucked up apartment I have ever seen in my like (and I have seen some doosies).
We got to an apartment in the Fenway area and from the outside it seemed just okay. It was in a larger building and this realtor explains it was a two bedroom and going for 1400. He knocks on the door. It seemed like the tenants were home. I heard someone coming to the door. I felt promise building in my heart as I waited. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to look at anymore places and I could just plunk down in this one. The door began to open. Have you seen the Goonies? Yes? Well, Ma Fratelli answered the door and Sloth is plopped down in a chair behind her in the living room - which is a trapezoid shaped space of about 50 square feet. Ma Fratelli is also wearing her pants above her belly button and some tall white sport socks with red stripes on the top. I have no idea what she was wearing for a shirt, I believe this is because my eyes barely left the floor. I just remember panic setting in that I even had to set foot in this place.
Ah, the floor. The low grade basement-type carpeting had probably never been vacuumed. The two bedrooms that were directly off the living room, were filled with bare mattresses and a messes I can only describe as being the place were all good things go to die. The galley kitchen branched from the living room and was filled with trash. Some of the cabinet knobs littered the ground. I am assuming Sloth pulled them off (because he is super strong in Goonies and I will assume that applies to this person too) and simply dropped them out of his meaty hands onto the "carpet". I have no recollection of the bathroom. I don't think I wanted to even head down that road.
This "apartment" was probably all of 600 square feet and I am so thankful, because I was in and out of there in about 2 minutes. We were all silent when we left. It probably took about a week to process that visual massacre. The fact that I can still remember it so well 6 years later proves that it certainly made an impression.
Amy's Comfortable Confines — Small Cool
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