Friday, November 14, 2008

The Palace

I have moved into a gorgeous, renovated apartment just built in 1962(recent, considering most building here were built 80 years ago) on top of an old Austrian apartment building. It is lovely and fabulous. Our friend Irene at the university lives right above us, which is perfect when I need to borrow a couple eggs to make potato pancakes. 
A quick recap of this week:
Saturday: I showed up at Irene's apartment ready to salsa dance and realized I was getting ripped by living 30 minutes outside the city in a horrible little apartment in a bad neighborhood. I decided we were moving out and Brett was unanimous.
Monday: "She is an average muckler," says Natalia about the agent who showed us around our first apartment. "Don't believe anything she says, it is all lies. She wants you to pay her right away for the apartment, but I lied to her to get away." 
The first apartment showing, with Brett's girlfriend Natalia as our translator, is a fluke after we spent hours combing the periodicals for listings. We narrowed down our price ceiling to about $450 max.
Tuesday: Squeezing through the doorway of apartment number two, I have to duck and slide sideways. It's smaller than our current dump of an apartment but doesn't have any beds. 
Number three is huge, and Brett and I think the Coca-Cola sign over the bathroom is a psychological thing to get you to pee. However, it's run down, the paint is coming off the ceiling and the landlady is clearly doing very well by the look of her diamond rings and pearls. 
When we arrived at Irene's building for apartment four after waiting 30 minutes for the agent to get through traffic, we're met by a burly man who looks like he drinks hard and plays harder. His hair is cut in a style that reminds me of a fourth grader that I know. He's not the landlord, but another agent. 
Brett and I fall in love with the place as soon as we walk in and an hour later we call them back to say we'll take the place.
Wednesday: We sign the rent deal, spend 30 minutes interpreting the contract into english, pay the agent and the landlord and move in. I'm so excited once they leave that I run all over the apartment jumping on furniture and break the bed. Woops! Still, I am elated and Brett and I know it's just the boost we need to make it through the year. I almost don't want to leave now.

1 comment:

CR said...

HAHAHAHA YOU BROKE THE BED