The Shanty Townhouse

When you find a master bedroom in a townhouse that is three miles away from your job for a more than affordable price in a very expensive area, there's usually good reason for it. You would also think that my logic would have set in after seeing how dilapidated this entirety of this place was, but instead I gave a very excited "I'LL TAKE IT!" to my one of my new roommates and moved in three weeks later. It wasn't like I was desperate; I wasn't living in my car or a refrigerator box quite yet. I was just living with family, and family is better loved when not living with them.

When I originally checked out the room, the guy's stuff was still in it and it was a little hard to gauge the unfortunate state it was actually in. As for the rest of the house, that was clearly falling to pieces, it didn't seem to faze me much.

"I'll be spending most of my time in my giant room anyway, who cares?! This is PERFECT!"

I did come back a few days before I moved in after this guy moved out to check out the room again, but with no lights in the room, and no sunlight shining through the blinds, again it was really hard to tell what the condition was. Should I really have expected the room to be in any better condition when downstairs looked... the way it did? Apparently I did.

Moving day arrived, and since this was officially my fourth move in an 18 month span, I hired people to move my stuff. I refused to lift a finger. I would be that woman holding her latte, chatting on her cell phone and pointing to where everything goes. I came upstairs to check out the room and upon a quick once over realized I had my work seriously cut out for me. I'm not sure if this man knew what a dust cloth was or not, but it was clear that he never used one in his life. Explain to me how the walls were so dusty, that the dust had turned into brown dirt. So here I am, mopping my walls with a Swiffer, when I was supposed to be drinking an overpriced hot beverage from Starbucks and thinking about how to decorate.

The Heather Sweatz™ had started to penetrate my scalp, so it was time to open the windows to let the cool winter air in as I continued to mop the walls. Little did I know that the windows don't stay open on their own, hence the giant, dusty, splintery wood block living on the window sill. One unstable opened window would have to due for now. After several hours of wall mopping, scrubbing the molding, and unpacking, I finally ventured into the bathroom to check out the situation.

It takes a lot to render me speechless, but this did it. After the initial shock wore away, the first thing that came to mind was "how did this man ever get laid?!" I've seen some scary bachelor bathrooms before, but this topped them off. I had to run away from it, literally, and try again in the morning. So the next day, a trip to Target was needed and after spending hundreds on every cleaning product imaginable, and disposable gloves, it was time to attack. There really was no good place to start since everything needed to be cleaned. So the first thing to go was the living creature that was once a shower curtain. I understand there are a lot of men (and let's be honest, women too) out there who couldn't be bothered with the cleanliness of the house and bathroom, but seriously, how could this man live like this? It was as if the material of the shower curtain no longer existed and have transformed into a mold carpet and with my Hazmat suit on back order, I had to go in without protection. I started going demolition on this bathroom, ripping old, moldy fixtures off the wall, and spraying bleach at everything that was no longer the color it should have been. I came out 3 hours later, traumatized, and high from the fumes, but the area was fully sanitized and ready to be used.

Not that it would make a difference because the next day, the ceiling of the dining room was on the floor and the water from my shower was streaming from the gaping hole. So now the sanitary bathroom was rendered useless, but no matter, I could just shower in the dining room, under the wet light fixture, which would sure to start sparking any moment. As I stood there, staring up at the hole, with my roommate Amanda, I couldn't help but laugh. I swear this was a scene out of The Money Pit. The man from RotoRooter was yelling at us and walking his muddy shoes around the carpets I just had cleaned. Every time I asked him his opinion that wasn't water or pipe related, his response was "that's not what I do!". Excuse me Mr. Rooter, I was simply asking you a question about the how the wet light might become a fire hazard, don't act like there's sand in your vagina please. The landlord sent someone to the house, as she hid in the car outside, to translate the situation in English. His response was "wow... everything in this house needs to be replaced". Gee - thanks.

So here was the test: would the landlord actually fix the house? There's so much wrong with the house, it's overwhelming.

1. The Kitchen - I'm pretty sure every appliance came original with the house when it was built in the 70s. I accidentally put my hand on the hood above the stove once, and my fingers were sticky for the rest of the day. I am plotting to take some kind of wire cutter to the back of the fridge, and accidentally breaking it.

2. The Dining Room - aside from the established issues, the carpet probably had open flames taken to it, during multiple occasions I assume. Aside from the holes, there were more stains than not, so I'm not exactly sure what color the carpet is.

3. The Half Bathroom - I didn't even realize what the little door to the left led to when I moved in, but I peaked inside once. I'll never do that again. The former roommate must have worked his magic in there as well.

4. The Wallpaper - Yes, we have wallpaper, all the way through the hallway and up the staircase. It's a classy green and paisley design, another original fixture since the house was first built.

5. The Stairs - both going up and down, they feel as if someone is bound to fall through them at any given moment.

6. The Floors - I'm not quite sure floors should make so much noise when you walk on them.

7. My Blue Toilet - granted, the toilet works, but I had the replace the toilet seat with a white one. Want to know why? Because who in their right mind makes a blue toilet seat for a blue toilet?! Now I have a multi colored toilet - it's like a disco in my bathroom.

8. Ceiling cracks - I'm pretty sure this means the house will self destruct during the next really windy day.

9. The Basement - it has wood paneling. Honest to god wood paneling.

My conclusion is that we just burn the house down and start from fresh. Ahh, Home Crap Home.