Warning: Mild-to-moderate elitism and/or bitchiness to follow
The time has come: Indian Engineer Roommate and Indian Doctor Girl are like totally almost married, and Indian Engineer Roommate is moving out so he can go set up house in SF. Thus begins the epic saga of FINDING ANOTHER ROOMMATE.
The craigslist ad was posted today and we saw our first interested applicant tonight, a fair young man right out of school with the face of an angel and the intelligence of a Jersey Shore cast member (Sample gem: "Oh, so you guys have taco nights. What's taco night?"). He claims that he works in physical fitness with another job in advertising. We thought it odd that someone working in advertising would need a second job so we used the power of the Google and the Facebook to find him online. Turns out he is in advertising as he possesses certain assets that allow him to effectively advertise many products. And by assets I mean his ASS.
Dude is a male model. The kind that gets naked a lot. All over the internet. And that's fine - but why did he lie about it? Advertising? Really?! I didn't think you were sketchy (just dumb as shit) but now I do! Add to that the fact that your parents will "totally cosign" and you can give us "everything in cash tomorrow" - how do we know you're not also a drug dealer and an escort? Ok, so, maybe I did think you were sketchy...whatever I'm not living with you. Also, you're a model. You never ate a damned taco in your life. In any case, tomorrow we're holding an invite-only open house and praying that this guy - yes, THIS GUY, who had his ASSISTANT email us, no joke - doesn't somehow find out and show up.
Which brings me to my ultimate point: I NEVER want to have to deal with this roommate search shit ever again. I want to sign my own damned lease for my own damned apartment that I select with the counsel of NO OTHER HUMAN BEING, ANIMAL, MINERAL, OR GOD IN EXISTENCE. Don't get me wrong, I love my current roommates, but this is the last time I am ever going through this. I cannot wait to have a home; a place where I know I can always go, provided I keep paying the rent, without considering or even thinking about anyone else. The next time I live with someone, he will be the man I'm engaged or married to. End of discussion.
Ok, well, I'm exhausted and my computer is dying so that's probably a sign. I fervently pray to the gods that tomorrow is the end of the search and that we don't have to settle for Mr. America's Top Idiot Model - keep you posted.
oh em gee. i was DYING at this story. that sounds like a nightmare. and who the fuck has an assistant? like honestly, he should take some of that money he's using to pay her and find an apartment with no roommates. weird!
ReplyDelete