Huntin' For a New Crib
I was online today checking out the different listings the Spectator had to offer. Found 3 that looked had potentials, but after visiting these 3 places, only 1 of actually had potential. The other 2 had something else. Allow me to explain.
The first place was down the street from the cafe, so Paul and I walked down to check it out. First off, if you want to get anywhere in Hamilton quickly, never go with Paul. Not only does this dude know pretty much everyone, but pretty much everyone knows him. In fact, the guy who showed us the place knew Paul!! What a baller. Anyways, back to the place. It wasn't anything to look at. The first thing we see when the guy opens the door is one of the other dudes who lives there prancing around in his underwear. Not good. Needless to say, my mind was made up right then, but not to be rude, I looked around and asked a few questions, and promptly left. Although the location was really good, it was one of those place you'd find some really sketchy transactions taking place.
The second place was at Barton and Stirton. With my earlier experience, I did not have any high expectations for this place, but I was pleasantly surprised. The house was in a pretty nice area, and I walk up, and 2 of the people who live there were chillin' out on the porch. I meet 'em both and get a tour. Though the tour was quick, it was nice. The place was cozy and had character, so that was a plus. The room wasn't super huge, but it wasn't tiny either, so that was another plus. As I get ready to peace out, the person who showed me around said the only stipulation with moving in is that I needed to be cool with the other 2 roommates smoking mary jane in the house. I didn't know what to say, being that I've never lived with people who smoked doobies, so I smiled and nodded and said 'aite, that's cool.' But we'll see if that's the case.
As I rolled up to the third place, I was overcome by a feeling of absolute fear. One look at this place and I knew that it wasn't gonna be a fit. The paint was falling off, there were pieces of siding missing, and the screens were all messed up. But since I was there, I figured, I'll go in and check it out. The dude inside opens up the door, and it's a robust white haired man wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a robe. My inner monologue was screaming 'get out now!', but I repressed it and went inside. All of a sudden, I was engulfed in this odor that was I can only describe as vomit inducing. It seemed like a combination of sweaty old man, stale urine, week old feces, and perhaps a rotting corpse behind one of the closed doors. Seriously, looking around the place and taking in the sights and smells made me want to hurl, and I have a pretty strong stomach. Needless to say, I was out of there pretty flippin' quick. As I was driving back to the cafe, my left hand started to itch. Hopefully I didn't pick up some nasty disease while in there.