The House HuntPosted: August 5, 2011
I began my search with buckets of positivity and headed off to the first place with a bounce in my step, accompanied by my lovely friend Zak, who was very excited when we saw that this ‘apartment’ was above a creepy ‘old man’ pub.
It could still be good, I told myself.
Regardless of the outside, the inside might be very modern and lovely…right?
We squeezed up a narrow staircase that smelled of Guinness and beer, at which point we realised this stairs could be accessed through a door that led INTO the pub.
The door also had a big glass window in it.
When we got up to the ‘apartment’ the guy informed me that the pub’s ladies toilet were ‘just under the sitting-room’.
I already knew.
I could smell it.
“So that’s the first bedroom,” he said indicating a tiny, dirty room with an actual shower in the corner where a wardrobe should have been.
“And the other one is up the next flight of stairs.”
Gingerly, I made my way up the stairs, careful not to touch anything for fear that the ‘pub smell’ would never leave me if I did.
The second bedroom was marginally better and without the shower feature.
“That’s the bathroom,” he said pointing to a tiny en-suite that was on the other side of SOMEONE’S BEDROOM.
Yes, every time I needed to whizz or clean myself, I had to pick my way through someone else’s room.
So that was a no.
Subsequent places were worse -yes, it IS possible – and I was beginning to plan my life on the cold, mean streets of Dublin.
And then, like a sparkling beacon of loveliness, a girl from work randomly came to my rescue while we were at a table quiz.
“We should look for a place together,” she said, informing me that she was ready to move out of her parents’ house.
Within a week we had secured a ridiculously beautiful apartment right in the centre of the city, with a view of the river from our bedrooms and the sitting room.
Not only that, but The Roomie managed to knock €100 off the monthly rent and we persuaded them to replace one of the beds with a shiny new base and mattress.
I’m almost afraid to say it, but it seems like things are starting to look up…