today I went downstairs and told my landlord, in 30 days, i'm outta here. "but why?" said helen, a sweet 70-year-old who has been nothing but wonderful to me for the last year and two months. I explained things just weren't working out with the roommates, that my repeated attempts to do things like "clean" were being thwarted by idiots who can't keep iced tea in a glass instead feeling the need spread it all over the floor. or cook popcorn in oil and then leave the oil all over the stove.
And that my repeated attempts to do things like "sleep" were being thwarted by idiots who watch movies like "saving private ryan" and "apocalypse now" and "rambo 7" at 3am. movies that make me to wake up in a cold sweat, thinking I'm not in my expensive, cozy room on the west side, but in the middle of normandy beach. "can't you look the other way?" she said. I could, but the short one has a cat, a cat he is intent on killing, but it's alive right now and that's all that matters. this cat has fleas, lots of fleas. idiot roommate has done nothing about this. oh! wait! i forgot! he sprayed the floor with a flea killer and then let the cat walk around on it! problem solved! but they're still in the house (the roommates and the fleas) and i hear they are known carriers of the bubonic plague (the fleas... and possibly the roommates. one does have a nasty cough) and i refuse the die from the plague! i deserve better than the plague! i want dysentary or brain leisons at the very least!
But poor Sol and Helen just looked at me like I was ruining god's master plan. "You're never going to find a better place. We keep the rent low for you. I say 'lets not raise the rent for the young ones, it will not make us any richer, they need the money more'" and then Sol pipes in, Sol who lived through Auschwitz and loves to tell me "could be worse" because literally, it could be, says "and the lemons! we give you all the lemons you want!" and at this point my heart breaks and I promise to try and work things out with the boys.
But really, things can't be worked out. You can only change a guy who plays online poker 9 hours a day so much. It's time to move on. I don't think I'll ever find an apartment where the landlords care so much and the lemons are doled out so freely, but at least I won't die of the plague.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
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8 comments:
- What does he do with the other 15 hours?
- The landlordian couple sound wonderful, aside from the lemons part, which isn't a draw for me as I don't like lemons. Tell them to move WITH you. :P
- If you're worried about the plague, watch out for Simon. She's a carrier. Sketchy company she keeps an' all.
- Squirt the lemons on the roommates and see what happens!
- The anti-spam-bot thingy when I try to leave a comment says that I should, in effect, verify the "word" it displays for me. I would like to note that it's confused, as it's NEVER given me a "word" to type in, just random characters. Although I don't know any Olde English so many you two hooked this thing up to use such viking phrases as "mhdyjw" and "qccrgn" instead.
I disagree about the plague. First of all, it is a fantastic disease. I would refer everyone to my post of 7 April 2005 in which we learn that people with the plague spit up mucus called sputum. If you're not instinctively interested in sputum, I don't think I can have anything to say to you. Secondly, short of terrible accidents and venomous creatures, what else can kill you in the space of hours? Only the septicemic plague. So you see, as far as infectious diseases go, the plague rocks.
I do want to point out, though, MATTHEW, that I AM NOT A PLAGUE CARRIER! You're just saying that because I am always giving you dead rat paraphanilia. (Also, I always think those "words" look vaguely Welsh or Czech. The only thing Vikings say in their own language is "Nargh!" so it can't be that.)
In actual response to the actual post -- dude, you need to blow that pop stand, or get your roommates evicted. There must be at least two other normal people in LA who would be happy to live with you especially if your rent is reasonable and you advertise the thing about the free lemons. I think the flea infestation is a really good place to draw the line.
You just make me laugh to the point of asthmatic dilerium.
Can't you get your wonderful sounding landlords to make up some excuse to kick the bums out?
Sol's english is pretty weak... Getting him to understand I was moving out was difficult enough, besides, the new place is pretty sweet... and there's an orange tree... even better than lemons!
Yeah, oranges do trump lemons. Do you have to have roommates there, too, or do you get your own place?
Maybe the oranges could BE the roommates? At least you'll know, then, that they'll smell good!
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