I think it’s time that I stop searching basements….

I went to visit a place on Thursday that appeared to be perfect, on paper. The place was posted on Craigslist, my main resource for finding apartments. The apartment was listed as $950 which includes utilities AND parking–heck yes for parking in D.C.! It’s a basement apartment, so once again I had the whole natural light thing to deal with, but sometimes there are a ton of windows and it doesn’t make much of a difference. Needless to say, I was pretty excited about it.

I called the number listed and made an appointment to go visit the next day. So after work on Thursday I headed from my office four stops up the Red Line to Van Ness (so close!) and walked about a mile (good exercise) to Chevy Chase, D.C. That area is so nice and really my ideal living location, so I was really hoping the place would work out. I decided to walk from the metro to see how long it would take, but I also found out there’s a bus stop just steps away from the apartment.

The apartment is in the basement of a house on a very quiet street. It was 6 p.m. when my friend and I got there, yet I felt like we were much further outside of D.C. than we really were. The street was a mixture of townhouses and houses, and they were all adorable… until we got to house number 3754, a.k.a. the eyesore of the block. It wasn’t so bad, but while all of the other lawns were mowed and the yards were kept up, this house looked like it needed a lil’ love, a coat of paint, or some flowers.

To add the disappointment, no one was home when I rang the doorbell. So I called the number and just listened to the phone ring inside the house. It was super-frustrating. My friend and I walked around to the back of the house and saw the back door open. Interesting… I didn’t realize people were that trusting in D.C. We hung out for about five minutes before a lady showed up.

She invited us into her home which was decorated with hundreds of photographs and really eclectic artwork. We had a semi-awkward moment that made me feel like I was going on a first date with her son when we sat on the couch and she asked me the typical questions like, “Where do you work?” and “What are you interests?”–loosely translated into, “Will you pay the rent on time?” and “Will you throw raging parties?”

Eventually she brought us downstairs into the apartment which was unfortunately darker than I had hoped. There was at least one window in each room, but it was too dark and dreary for my taste. There was a washer and dryer (nice!) in the kitchen, but it also featured a spider crawling on the ground and a cabinet door hanging off its hinge. Bummer. The bedroom, while small, was nice and at least it would be separated from the living room–but with only one closet in the place I’m not sure if I’d have enough room for all of my shoes. Gotta somehow break this shopping habit! Overall, I couldn’t see myself going home there and being happy, so I politely told the lady I’d be in contact with her. But it’s a decently nice place for a good price, so I’m sure someone else has snatched it by now.

Oh well, back to searching for me….

<—-adorable lil park nearby

Author My First Apartment

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