Home Smelly Home

I’d like to share a story from one of the less enjoyable aspects of my weekend: the apartment search. Alas, we must leave dear 520 W. Melrose a week from tomorrow, and have found ourselves scrambling to find a new place. Given the up-in-the-air nature of our current situation, we are back to looking for the elusive sublet, in the abyss that is Craigslist.

Today—one of the most absolutely beautiful days I have ever seen in my life—I found myself somehow, in one of the most horrifying and disgusting places I have ever seen in my life. The worst part is, I never would have predicted it from the Craigslist add that lured us there.

The fiction went something like this:

“Apartment for sublet in a classic building, blah, blah, plenty of space, blah, blah, lots of light, a roof deck (!!!), utilities included. So sad to leave.”

The current tenant seemed nice enough, albeit, a little grungy in an artsy, hippie sort of way (he was wearing a Grateful Dead t-shirt with someone’s signature in the bottom corner). But, when it came to his living situation, he was completely deluded. He truly and earnestly believed that his apartment was a palace, when in reality it was a pigsty. A layer of food grime covered every surface in the kitchen and a stack of dirty dishes as well as a plate of half-eaten chocolate chip cookies sat in the sink. He claimed he was leaving to move in with his girlfriend, but I can’t imagine what that living situation would be like, since there was not a bed in sight in the apartment. She was there though, as were two other friends, all perched on the miscellaneous articles of furniture that filled the room along with a bass, a large African drum, and assorted cacti.

I could tell he thought that the roof-deck was the pièce de résistance to an all-around class-A abode; his face lit up like a little kid’s as he led the way out onto it. I’ll give it to him, if you kept your gaze straight out, on the horizon, it was a good view; you could see Lincoln Park and the Lake beyond it. Unfortunately, I let my eyes wander just the slightest bit and they fell upon the massive dump that was directly behind/below the building. Our good host didn’t seem to notice.

As our tour came to a close, he bid us good -bye and urged us to call once we decided so he could arrange the rest of the details. We nodded and assured him we’d let him know as soon as we came to a decision. It was as though he couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting to live in the slum that he called home. I couldn’t bring myself to crush his dream.