Apartment-hunting, San Francisco style
WriterMan, Youngest, and I spent the long weekend apartment hunting in San Francisco.
We saw 13 properties over three-and-a-half days, and would have seen more if the listing agents had returned our phone calls.
There was the beautifully staged, stamp-sized apartment that WriterMan and Youngest fell in love with on the second day that had extremely inadequate storage and a tiny living-dining space that couldn't hold a couch. I had an anxious hour or so until WriterMan finally agreed that it really was too small. Youngest remains unconvinced.
There was the house on the busy street that seemed great to me, until we got to the shared back yard and saw the junk pile, including a queen mattress. WriterMan noticed that the carpets were stained and smelled of cat.
There was the Oliver Twist apartment, which had a shared wooden staircase that reminded us of the movie. The kiss of death for that one was no parking in a very busy neighborhood.
Youngest loved the staircase. (We discovered that he has a fondness for apartments with hidden entrances, dark staircases, and outdoor spaces that are shared, not private. He cares not a whit for parking or closet space.)
One apartment had such a bad parking situation that I was dropped off to look at it while WriterMan circled around. It was even more Dickensian than the Oliver Twist house--small, cramped, beige rooms with windows that let in little light.
In the end, it came down to three possibilities. As I write this, we are waiting to hear back from our first choice, which is being shown t to one more family later today. Our second choice was already rented to someone who offered more than the asking price. We are waiting to hear back from our first choice before we apply to our third choice, which is a little above what we wanted to pay and would require us to pay some or all of June's rent even though we don't need a space until July 1.
If none of those work out, I'll fly back by myself in a few weeks and start the process all over again.
We saw 13 properties over three-and-a-half days, and would have seen more if the listing agents had returned our phone calls.
There was the beautifully staged, stamp-sized apartment that WriterMan and Youngest fell in love with on the second day that had extremely inadequate storage and a tiny living-dining space that couldn't hold a couch. I had an anxious hour or so until WriterMan finally agreed that it really was too small. Youngest remains unconvinced.
There was the house on the busy street that seemed great to me, until we got to the shared back yard and saw the junk pile, including a queen mattress. WriterMan noticed that the carpets were stained and smelled of cat.
There was the Oliver Twist apartment, which had a shared wooden staircase that reminded us of the movie. The kiss of death for that one was no parking in a very busy neighborhood.
Youngest loved the staircase. (We discovered that he has a fondness for apartments with hidden entrances, dark staircases, and outdoor spaces that are shared, not private. He cares not a whit for parking or closet space.)
One apartment had such a bad parking situation that I was dropped off to look at it while WriterMan circled around. It was even more Dickensian than the Oliver Twist house--small, cramped, beige rooms with windows that let in little light.
In the end, it came down to three possibilities. As I write this, we are waiting to hear back from our first choice, which is being shown t to one more family later today. Our second choice was already rented to someone who offered more than the asking price. We are waiting to hear back from our first choice before we apply to our third choice, which is a little above what we wanted to pay and would require us to pay some or all of June's rent even though we don't need a space until July 1.
If none of those work out, I'll fly back by myself in a few weeks and start the process all over again.
Love your descriptions, especially comparing the apartments to residences of Oliver Twist.
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