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As many of you may remember, a while back one of my roommates moved out when her job transferred her out of town. Since then, Mr. Anti-Social and I have been trying to fill the third room in the apartment, with bizarrely zero success. The last two months, we have each had to pay 50% more in rent to cover the apartment's total rent, what with there being 2 of us instead of the usual three. This sucks. And this past week has added to the bizarre nature of this quest. Actually, the following would be funny if we weren't looking at a 3rd month of paying extra rent--which, if I don't have to do, I may well be able to take a much-needed vacation back home to Phoenix at the end of September. I have not been home in over a year. I want to go home. I NEED A FUCKING ROOMMATE.
So. Sorry about that. On to this week's events. What follows all happened this week, and is all true, with the names changed to protect the guilty and confuse the innocent....
"GUS"
I get a call from Gus over the weekend. Gus comes to look at the place. It's a bit smaller than he would like, but overall he likes the place, he agrees with the basic living philosophy Mr. Anti-Social and I have, and he is pretty sure he wants the place. As a good faith gesture, he hands me $60 to "hold" the room. I explain to him that I will still show the place, but he is first in line to get it, but if he decides to seek other living arrangements, or I decide to go with someone else, I will have no problem refunding him the $60. If/when he moves in, that money would be applied to his first month's rent.
As is now standard practice for me, I ask for 3 personal references that I can call. My philosophy is that if someone can't find 3 friends to say, "Oh, he's a great guy," something is seriously wrong with that person. Gus gives me two references and says he will call me with a third, as his phone has died and he can't retrieve the third. This doesn't bother me, as the only number I could remember without my phone is Mr. Anti-Social's, and that is only because it has a very easy repeating pattern to it.
Gus never gets me the third reference. I do call the other two references the next day. The first reference doesn't say much. And I don't mean he doesn't say much about Gus, he just doesn't speak much. "Yeah, he's a good guy." Stop. Nothing more. No elaboration. Completely different from just about every other potential roommate whose references I called. Hell, one girl listed her recent ex-boyfriend, and he sang her praises. THAT'S a freakin' reference! But no, this guy doesn't say much. Okay, not everyone is as effusive as I am. And then I call the second reference. Who I think may have been drunk. "Oh yeah, Gus. Nice guy. Not a thief." Said a couple other things that had nothing to do with anything, then back to Gus: "At least he's not a thief." Okay, that is the best thing you can say about the guy? Worse, you are the person he wants to be his reference? So I'm beginning to wonder about Gus.
The next day following, I get a call from Gus. He leaves me a voice mail telling me that he appreciates my time, but he has decided he needs a larger living space. I call him back later in the day telling him he can come get his money any time, and tell him my work schedule that day. I don't hear back from him. I call again the next day, repeating that I have his money, there are no hard feelings, and that I am more than happy to return him his $60. I still have not heard back from him, though I have his $60 separated in my wallet ready for him to come claim it. Oddly, I don't think he will. I have no idea why.
"LARRY"
Between my Wednesday magic gigs, I call back a number that had called my phone but not left a message, hoping it might be a potential roommate. It is. A guy named Larry who said he had talked to me previously about the room. I don't remember the guy, and his number shows no history in my phone, so my only thought is that this may be a bartender in town I had talked to with the same name, or I just didn't remember talking to him, or he was confusing me with someone else. He asks a few questions, I answer them. He asks when he can come see the place. I tell him I work till 9ish, but if that's a good time for him, he can come see it after I am done with work, and that I will call him at that time. He agrees.
At 9:20 that night, I call him and get his voice mail. I leave a message, telling him I have left work and am heading home, and he can call me to come look at the place. I try again at 9:45. I never hear back from Larry.
"SARA"
So I get a call from a number I don't recognize, but she says she is Sara from a bar I frequent and used to work at. Okay, cool. Not sure who she is at the moment, but whatever. She asks about the place, I tell her about the place. The finances don't seem to be making her happy. She does not attempt to make an appointment to come see the place.
This morning when I was driving a friend into town, he told me who Sara was, and I realized I did know her. Okay, cool. I told him that she didn't seem interested in the place. And then he told me, as the phrase goes, "The Rest of The Story":
It seems my friend and a few others were sitting around said bar with Sara when somehow it came to light that she was looking for a new place to live. Another one of my friends said, "Well ya know, Jester's got a room for rent." And he gave her my number, as I had told many of my friends to do. She called, you know that story.
Well, she wandered off, and it seems that some of the other people there were her current roommates. And they revealed that the reason Sara needed a new place to live was because they were sick of her living with them being strung out on drugs as she was. To which my friends said, "And you just allowed us to give Jester's number to this girl!?!?"
Needless to say, armed with this new information, if Sara calls back, I will find a way to make sure she doesn't move in. While I have no problem with people using drugs, Mr. Anti-Social and I don't want any drugs in the house, as we don't particularly like the idea of cops knocking on our door. And "using drugs recreationally" is far different from "strung out on drugs," mind you. The first one is something many people do, including many of my friends. The second one involves inevitable drama and probably financial issues, neither of which we particularly want or need.
"LOU"
Shortly after I called Larry the first time after work on Wednesday night, I get a call from a local number. Answering it, I end up talking to a guy who works at a local shop that a friend of mine manages. Apparently she had told him about my room for rent, and he is very much trying to get the fuck out of his father's place, where he is paying more than double the rent of what my available room is going for. We talk a little bit, he seems pretty solid. He mentions that he's gay, asks if that's a problem. I tell him straight up that my roommate and I don't give a flying fuck about that, and are far more concerned that he pays his rent and bills on time, is not a douchebag, and doesn't bring unneeded drama to the abode. Since he currently doesn't have a phone, we pre-arrange for him to meet me today (Friday) at The Bar at around 5:30, which is about when I figure I'll be done, and then we'll go to the apartment so he can see it and we can talk. He says he might bring his boyfriend. While I have no problem with that, I find it a bit odd, but whatever.
Yesterday I text my friend, his boss, and she says Lou seems both reliable and dependable, and that she would have no problem renting to him. Basically she sings his praises and gives him her stamp of approval.
Today I got off work earlier than expected, around 5:10. I sit down and have a beer, waiting for Lou. Lou never shows. I text my friend, she doesn't have Lou's boyfriend's phone number. She has no idea why he didn't show. I stick around until close to 7. No Lou.
"LENA"
Yesterday while I was working, this girl with a slight foreign accent called and left me a voice mail about my room. After I got off work, I listened to the message and called her back. We had a nice polite conversation about the place, and she says she would like to come see it. I ask when would be convenient for her, and she decides that rather than come see it then, she would like to come see it the next day, Friday. I explain to her that I have someone else looking at it after I get off work on Friday (Lou, for those playing at home), but as soon as I am done showing him the place, I'll call her so she can come look at the place. I figure it would be around 7ish. There is a little bit of trouble communicating because of the language barrier, but eventually we get this all worked out.
Today, after Lou's no show, as I was driving home I called Lena. I got her voice mail. (Boy, you didn't see that one coming, did you?) I left her a message that she could come see the place whenever she wanted, that I was free.
I have not heard back from Lena.
"AARON"
Yesterday I got a call from Aaron. He seemed normal, pleasant, and polite. He asked good questions, gave good answers. Sadly, he then said, "I have a cat. Is that a problem." I told him it was, as my roommate was very clear that he did not want any cats in the place. And I tried to politely thank him for his time, but he wasn't done. "Does he not like cats or is he allergic to them?"
Seriously dude? You are going to try to argue with me? What, you think your superior reasoning skills are going to allow you to triumph over my puny brain and convince me to take in you and your feline familiar? Well, your Jedi mind tricks won't work on me!
Look, my roommate doesn't want cats in the place. Sucks to be you, but that's the way it is. Now deal with reality, and go find another place to live, Mr. Debate Club.
"ANDRE"
I actually have no idea what this guy's name was because I had such a hard time understanding him.
In any case, yesterday, shortly after I talked to Lena, I called back another guy who had left a message on my voice mail when I was working. I wasn't exactly sure what the message was, because it was so hard to understand the guy. After three listenings, I figured out that he was calling about the room, but I couldn't figure out if he was drunk, had a thick foreign accent, or was a drunk foreigner with a thick accent. In any case, I called him back.
And entered into a very bizarre conversation. Now, I am not entirely sure what he said, because even live it was almost impossible for me to understand him (I still don't know why), but the gist of it as far as *I* understood it was this:
He needed a place NOW. He was leaving town for some sort of academy and didn't know when he'd be back, but he needed a place for his stuff, and had no problem paying the first month's rent and the deposit. I think he said that he thought he would be back October 15th, and I pointed out to him that that would make October's rent late. He said October's rent would not be a problem, though he did not say how he planned on taking care of it. I think he figured I could use the deposit for his October rent. Kind of shady to my mind. He then said something to the effect of he needed to store his shit some place, and that if while he was gone I rented the place to someone else, when he got back he would merely collect his stuff, and his rent (or that I could keep the rent--still not sure), and he'd be off.
Forget shady...this sounded bizarre. I don't know what he planned on storing at my place, but whatever it was, neither it nor him sounded like anything I wanted in my life. At this point in the "conversation" (which was much longer than this, as I kept having to have him repeat himself since I couldn't understand a fucking thing he was saying), I decided I had had enough, and told him quite simply that this just would not work. No way, no chance, no how, his idea of how things were going to go down was simply NOT going to happen. I was polite, but I was firm. This scenario had NO chance of becoming reality. Thank you, good bye.
Fucking bizarre.
And still no roommate. What. The. FUCK!?!?!
So. Sorry about that. On to this week's events. What follows all happened this week, and is all true, with the names changed to protect the guilty and confuse the innocent....
"GUS"
I get a call from Gus over the weekend. Gus comes to look at the place. It's a bit smaller than he would like, but overall he likes the place, he agrees with the basic living philosophy Mr. Anti-Social and I have, and he is pretty sure he wants the place. As a good faith gesture, he hands me $60 to "hold" the room. I explain to him that I will still show the place, but he is first in line to get it, but if he decides to seek other living arrangements, or I decide to go with someone else, I will have no problem refunding him the $60. If/when he moves in, that money would be applied to his first month's rent.
As is now standard practice for me, I ask for 3 personal references that I can call. My philosophy is that if someone can't find 3 friends to say, "Oh, he's a great guy," something is seriously wrong with that person. Gus gives me two references and says he will call me with a third, as his phone has died and he can't retrieve the third. This doesn't bother me, as the only number I could remember without my phone is Mr. Anti-Social's, and that is only because it has a very easy repeating pattern to it.
Gus never gets me the third reference. I do call the other two references the next day. The first reference doesn't say much. And I don't mean he doesn't say much about Gus, he just doesn't speak much. "Yeah, he's a good guy." Stop. Nothing more. No elaboration. Completely different from just about every other potential roommate whose references I called. Hell, one girl listed her recent ex-boyfriend, and he sang her praises. THAT'S a freakin' reference! But no, this guy doesn't say much. Okay, not everyone is as effusive as I am. And then I call the second reference. Who I think may have been drunk. "Oh yeah, Gus. Nice guy. Not a thief." Said a couple other things that had nothing to do with anything, then back to Gus: "At least he's not a thief." Okay, that is the best thing you can say about the guy? Worse, you are the person he wants to be his reference? So I'm beginning to wonder about Gus.
The next day following, I get a call from Gus. He leaves me a voice mail telling me that he appreciates my time, but he has decided he needs a larger living space. I call him back later in the day telling him he can come get his money any time, and tell him my work schedule that day. I don't hear back from him. I call again the next day, repeating that I have his money, there are no hard feelings, and that I am more than happy to return him his $60. I still have not heard back from him, though I have his $60 separated in my wallet ready for him to come claim it. Oddly, I don't think he will. I have no idea why.
"LARRY"
Between my Wednesday magic gigs, I call back a number that had called my phone but not left a message, hoping it might be a potential roommate. It is. A guy named Larry who said he had talked to me previously about the room. I don't remember the guy, and his number shows no history in my phone, so my only thought is that this may be a bartender in town I had talked to with the same name, or I just didn't remember talking to him, or he was confusing me with someone else. He asks a few questions, I answer them. He asks when he can come see the place. I tell him I work till 9ish, but if that's a good time for him, he can come see it after I am done with work, and that I will call him at that time. He agrees.
At 9:20 that night, I call him and get his voice mail. I leave a message, telling him I have left work and am heading home, and he can call me to come look at the place. I try again at 9:45. I never hear back from Larry.
"SARA"
So I get a call from a number I don't recognize, but she says she is Sara from a bar I frequent and used to work at. Okay, cool. Not sure who she is at the moment, but whatever. She asks about the place, I tell her about the place. The finances don't seem to be making her happy. She does not attempt to make an appointment to come see the place.
This morning when I was driving a friend into town, he told me who Sara was, and I realized I did know her. Okay, cool. I told him that she didn't seem interested in the place. And then he told me, as the phrase goes, "The Rest of The Story":
It seems my friend and a few others were sitting around said bar with Sara when somehow it came to light that she was looking for a new place to live. Another one of my friends said, "Well ya know, Jester's got a room for rent." And he gave her my number, as I had told many of my friends to do. She called, you know that story.
Well, she wandered off, and it seems that some of the other people there were her current roommates. And they revealed that the reason Sara needed a new place to live was because they were sick of her living with them being strung out on drugs as she was. To which my friends said, "And you just allowed us to give Jester's number to this girl!?!?"
Needless to say, armed with this new information, if Sara calls back, I will find a way to make sure she doesn't move in. While I have no problem with people using drugs, Mr. Anti-Social and I don't want any drugs in the house, as we don't particularly like the idea of cops knocking on our door. And "using drugs recreationally" is far different from "strung out on drugs," mind you. The first one is something many people do, including many of my friends. The second one involves inevitable drama and probably financial issues, neither of which we particularly want or need.
"LOU"
Shortly after I called Larry the first time after work on Wednesday night, I get a call from a local number. Answering it, I end up talking to a guy who works at a local shop that a friend of mine manages. Apparently she had told him about my room for rent, and he is very much trying to get the fuck out of his father's place, where he is paying more than double the rent of what my available room is going for. We talk a little bit, he seems pretty solid. He mentions that he's gay, asks if that's a problem. I tell him straight up that my roommate and I don't give a flying fuck about that, and are far more concerned that he pays his rent and bills on time, is not a douchebag, and doesn't bring unneeded drama to the abode. Since he currently doesn't have a phone, we pre-arrange for him to meet me today (Friday) at The Bar at around 5:30, which is about when I figure I'll be done, and then we'll go to the apartment so he can see it and we can talk. He says he might bring his boyfriend. While I have no problem with that, I find it a bit odd, but whatever.
Yesterday I text my friend, his boss, and she says Lou seems both reliable and dependable, and that she would have no problem renting to him. Basically she sings his praises and gives him her stamp of approval.
Today I got off work earlier than expected, around 5:10. I sit down and have a beer, waiting for Lou. Lou never shows. I text my friend, she doesn't have Lou's boyfriend's phone number. She has no idea why he didn't show. I stick around until close to 7. No Lou.
"LENA"
Yesterday while I was working, this girl with a slight foreign accent called and left me a voice mail about my room. After I got off work, I listened to the message and called her back. We had a nice polite conversation about the place, and she says she would like to come see it. I ask when would be convenient for her, and she decides that rather than come see it then, she would like to come see it the next day, Friday. I explain to her that I have someone else looking at it after I get off work on Friday (Lou, for those playing at home), but as soon as I am done showing him the place, I'll call her so she can come look at the place. I figure it would be around 7ish. There is a little bit of trouble communicating because of the language barrier, but eventually we get this all worked out.
Today, after Lou's no show, as I was driving home I called Lena. I got her voice mail. (Boy, you didn't see that one coming, did you?) I left her a message that she could come see the place whenever she wanted, that I was free.
I have not heard back from Lena.
"AARON"
Yesterday I got a call from Aaron. He seemed normal, pleasant, and polite. He asked good questions, gave good answers. Sadly, he then said, "I have a cat. Is that a problem." I told him it was, as my roommate was very clear that he did not want any cats in the place. And I tried to politely thank him for his time, but he wasn't done. "Does he not like cats or is he allergic to them?"
Seriously dude? You are going to try to argue with me? What, you think your superior reasoning skills are going to allow you to triumph over my puny brain and convince me to take in you and your feline familiar? Well, your Jedi mind tricks won't work on me!
Look, my roommate doesn't want cats in the place. Sucks to be you, but that's the way it is. Now deal with reality, and go find another place to live, Mr. Debate Club.
"ANDRE"
I actually have no idea what this guy's name was because I had such a hard time understanding him.
In any case, yesterday, shortly after I talked to Lena, I called back another guy who had left a message on my voice mail when I was working. I wasn't exactly sure what the message was, because it was so hard to understand the guy. After three listenings, I figured out that he was calling about the room, but I couldn't figure out if he was drunk, had a thick foreign accent, or was a drunk foreigner with a thick accent. In any case, I called him back.
And entered into a very bizarre conversation. Now, I am not entirely sure what he said, because even live it was almost impossible for me to understand him (I still don't know why), but the gist of it as far as *I* understood it was this:
He needed a place NOW. He was leaving town for some sort of academy and didn't know when he'd be back, but he needed a place for his stuff, and had no problem paying the first month's rent and the deposit. I think he said that he thought he would be back October 15th, and I pointed out to him that that would make October's rent late. He said October's rent would not be a problem, though he did not say how he planned on taking care of it. I think he figured I could use the deposit for his October rent. Kind of shady to my mind. He then said something to the effect of he needed to store his shit some place, and that if while he was gone I rented the place to someone else, when he got back he would merely collect his stuff, and his rent (or that I could keep the rent--still not sure), and he'd be off.
Forget shady...this sounded bizarre. I don't know what he planned on storing at my place, but whatever it was, neither it nor him sounded like anything I wanted in my life. At this point in the "conversation" (which was much longer than this, as I kept having to have him repeat himself since I couldn't understand a fucking thing he was saying), I decided I had had enough, and told him quite simply that this just would not work. No way, no chance, no how, his idea of how things were going to go down was simply NOT going to happen. I was polite, but I was firm. This scenario had NO chance of becoming reality. Thank you, good bye.
Fucking bizarre.
And still no roommate. What. The. FUCK!?!?!
Even I can get 3 people to lie about me. 
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