Saturday, April 07, 2007

I almost had a great apartment in Los Angeles. I flew down for a couple days to look and scored a coup on my second day. Since I have no idea what my income will be, I'm shooting on the low side for rent. My goal was under $1000 per month, and damnit I found it. Fantastic location, Hollywood Hills, hardwood floors, corner apartment, upper unit. Sunny. Very small, but the building was built in 1912 and had only twelve units. Impeccably kept building with wide hallways, redone plumbing, (copper pipes, I asked) installed throughout, and an on site rock musician manager that looked like he could squash skulls in his biceps, but sweet and sensitive with a heart of gold. He was more likely to use his brawn to rescue small kittens from trees, and took to me immediately. He really wanted me to rent the place and was excited when I asked for an application. The apartment had high ceilings, tons of light, and with my incredible furniture added, cute and elegant would be an understatement. Rent, $995 a month. Cats allowed, no pet deposit. Unheard of.

The downsides were that it didn't have parking and in that neighborhood that means you're walking two blocks at least. I didn't care. I could pay for a spot in a lot down the street. It was the price of starting over, that you don't get everything you want right away, especially if you are lucky enough to find the apartment that I did in the friggin' Hollywood Hills.

I applied and it was as good as done. I flew home the day after and the next day got a call from the manager saying there had been some developments with the apartment. Those developments were that the owner had decided to redo the whole apartment and rent it for over $1200. Apparently, the owner's assistant, a power hungry twat, came into the apartment and threw a hissy fit that the manager was showing it in "such condition." Huh? The condition was that the girl who had rented it before hadn't completely moved out, and in today's rental market nobody gives a shit except for people like this dumb twat who don't get it. The manager said that this hadn't happened for the sixteen years that he'd been there and that the owner had never acted like that. He told me that since the assistant had been given a little more responsibility, she was pulling power plays but nothing like this. The owner had decided to enjoy his success from afar and therefore gave more power to the twat. As I've always thought, true test of character is judged not in adversity but when one is given a little bit of power. If one had seen what I had in this building, the wonderful manager, and known the neighborhood, it would be that much more evident how clueless the twat was in her reaction.

The manager was completely devastated that I wouldn't be moving in, and felt so bad that he told me he'd give me my credit application fee back. I told him that this kind of thing happens and is beyond either of our control. I also told him that we'll get to sit back and laugh as they try to rent it for premium dollar when there is no parking to the extent that people will be walking a couple blocks. People who pay $1200 don't want to walk two blocks to their very small apartment. In east coast cities, that's expected. In Los Angeles it's a deal breaker.

So, unless the owner has a change of heart I won't be getting that apartment after all. It's a bummer because I was so ready to begin my Los Angeles life and it was looking like it was getting off to a perfect start. Now I'll have to go back and look again, and it's going to cost more money for another flight and car rental. I'll get the joy of having to endure kissing more depressing, small, cheap frogs until I find the prince.

This is the apartment that I almost called home. For those of you that don't know Los Angeles and the rental market, you might wonder what all the fuss is about. But for those of you that do, you see what I missed out on. Of course it was going to be painted, floors poly-urethaned (sp), and completely cleaned before I moved in. I invite you to join hands with me as we look and lament at what almost was.

Living room, other side
This is the living room. Ceilings were nine feet or more, I think. Just completely charming and cute as can all be. Other apartment searchers in the place. I took this photo from the kitchen area.



Living room with built in shelvesI loved this. A Murphy bed closet transformed into a shelving unit.



Living Room of the place that was almost home.Another corner of the living room showing a closet door. Bedroom is to the right.



Kitchen, with double windows over sink.This is the kitchen. Huge space and dining area behind me out of photo. The caddy on the left is furniture and would go. Original tile from the 19-teens's, and original icebox, yes, icebox was still there with heavy wood doors and the motor in it! It didn't work, but so cool. Storage and nooks galore, not represented in my horrible photos.



kitchen of the place I almost called home This is the other side of the kitchen area. The icebox and pantry are out of sight on the left, the living room to the right.



bedroom wall of the place I almost called homeHorrible shot of the bedroom. Such a bad photo, taken hap hazardly because I was talking at the same time. I had to invert it, and it shows nothing of the bedroom except the window. There was another window on my right, as it was a corner apartment. The living room was behind me from this angle, bathroom to the left.



Bathroom of the place I almost called homeWith every place there is something left to be desired and in this case it was weensy bathroom. However, there was a nice large window over the tub. I'm all for windows in bathrooms as it lets out the steam. Once again though, fixed up cute like I had in mind and with my gorgeous shower curtain in place, it would be a darling little room.



*sigh*

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