Silence of the Lambs!

During my search for an apartment for Danni I've looked at some really nice places, although nothing yet has been exactly right,  I've had plenty of time, and not been under pressure to find anything quickly, so I've taken my time with the search, wanting to find exactly the right place for her.  

I scour the Internet, make lists, do map search for directions, and make appointments to view, when Danni can grab a free hour from school she's joined me in viewing the ones that I thought she would like. 

The requirements are, safe location, close to school, with a garage or off street parking, and of course a nice apartment.  We've looked at some lovely modern lofts downtown, but we've come across a few places that   were decidedly sketchy!  The descriptions used to advertise apartments can sometimes be quite misleading to say the least, and the terminology colorful!

Yesterday I had an appointment to view an apartment described as "Lovely one bedroom loft, with all modern conveniences, including spacious living area, walk in wardrobe, dishwasher, washer, dryer, bathroom with tub and shower, magnificent views over the city, quiet neighborhood walking distance to local bars, restaurants and clubs, and only minutes from OSU"  It sounded perfect, and was in an area that  Danni liked.

Because of Danni's other commitments I ended up going to view this one alone.  The appointment was at 3pm.  My GPS directed me straight to the location, which was indeed only minutes from OSU, good start; I drove along a pretty cherry blossomed street, with well cared for houses and lovely yards, people were walking their dogs, children were playing on bikes, and a couple of teenagers with i-pods jogged past  as I pulled up outside the address at 2:55pm.  The house was the only one on the street that I didn't like the look of, all the other houses were brightly painted, and had yards full of flowers and shrubs, this house had a bare concrete yard and looked "dark"!

I was told that the house was not numbered and I would probably have trouble locating it, so I should call when I arrived in the street. I had no problems finding the house, even without the number on the letterbox, but as instructed I called the number, and waited for the landlord to come out. As I walked across the road to meet him, I felt really uneasy as though I should turn and run.  He walked out onto his porch and waved at me, he was dressed in a grubby t shirt with long shorts, with a large tear in the side, he had odd socks that pulled up almost to his knees, and dirty trainers.  

Now I know this will sound silly but he looked like Ted Levine (the serial killer "Buffalo Bill" in the movie Silence of the lambs).  We shook hands and I smiled and looked over my shoulder at all the people walking in the street, trying to make eye contact with one of them hoping they would notice me going into this creepy house.  I had already decided that under no circumstances was this going to be suitable for Danni, but I didn't wish to appear rude, so I had no choice other than to view the apartment.

We walked into the house through the front door, and he explained that he lived on the ground floor, meaning that anyone living in the apartment would have to pass him on their way in.  The hallway was dark even though it was a bright sunny day outside, the floor boards were a dark wood and creaked under my feet, there was litter strewn about, and through the half open doors I could see into his part of the house, it was cluttered with sheets thrown over the furniture,  bags and boxes were piled up everywhere. We walked up the first set of stairs, the stairway was dark and smelt odd like stale fat and body odor, all the floorboards creaked, everywhere was filthy, the plaster on the walls and ceiling were cracked and pealing off in places, crumbled plaster lay over the floor, the walls looked moldy in places.  On the second floor there were three doors, one appeared to be hanging on only one hinge, bare wires poked out of the wall where the light switch should have been, he saw me looking at it and said "OH I'm fixing that".  Like everything else in this place I thought.  The windows were so dirty that barely any light shone through, and the frames were in desperate need of a coat of paint, the wood looked rotten.  A couple of the doors were ajar and I could see into the rooms beyond, more mess and clutter, the smell was starting to make me gag.

He opened a door at the far end of the hallway "this is the entrance to the apartment" he said.  As he opened the door it was totally dark inside, "OH he's still here, I'll call him" he said starting to dial a number on his mobile, I could hear the phone ringing above me, it rang about 6 or 7 times then stopped, then there were footsteps.  He called again and the person answered this time "the 3 O'clock is here" he said.  I couldn't hear what the person on the phone was saying, but I hoped it would be something that would mean he couldn't show the apartment.  "He'll just be 5 minutes, he was in the shower" he said;  well isn't that nice I thought, didn't he know I was coming?

We walked back downstairs and out onto the front porch to wait for the person in the apartment to leave. This was my opportunity to make a run for it, but without having actually seen the apartment I couldn't think of a polite excuse.  After about 5 minutes a young guy carrying a bike came out.  We headed back into the house and up the creepy stairs, this time when he opened the door there was some light, we climbed up the steep, narrow staircase into a loft, and as soon as I stepped into the room the man reached over and closed the trapdoor behind me which covered the staircase.  We were standing in the tiny attic of the house; a bed stood in one corner of the room, a stove, dishwasher and sink in the other, and the only floorspace was over the trapdoor.  I have to say I was more than a little uncomfortable in that room, it was dark because the windows were small and dirty, there were clothes scattered all over the floor and bed, I was feeling quite claustrophobic. The pitched ceiling meant there was only standing room in the center part of the room The tiny, tiny bathroom was more disgusting than I can begin to describe, and the "walk in closet" was a large hole knocked through the wall opening up a space under the rafters, the bare bricks were exposed, and I could see daylight through the gaps in the roof…  

I thanked him and said I would talk to my daughter about it, but that we did have a few other properties to look at.  My relief when he opened the trapdoor for me to leave was immense.  The place reminded me of a dark cellar, but instead of being underground it was in a loft, and for all this he was only asking $800 a month!