For many weeks, SK and I have been trawling the depths of Craigslist apartment listings, well in advance of our move date (Feb. 1). It’s like looking at personal ads before the divorce papers come through.
It’s starting to get real though, and last Sunday SK stumbled on the Holy Grail of SF apartments. Affordable rent, huge floorspace, decent neighborhood, vintage architecture, hardwood floors, back deck, washer/dryer, etc. She forwarded me the listing, to which I replied- SAJFDASKFDASDFJ!!!! We immediately set up a viewing for this Saturday at 9am, giving me a week to freak out. I did some weird, obsessive things, like a) calling the landlady to make sure we had the absolute first appointment for a viewing and b) searching her on Facebook. I was worried I’d lose my impulse control and send her a 3am e-mail: “Can’t wait to meet you! xoxo”
On Tuesday night, we took a little field trip to Potrero Hill for an unscheduled apartment visit. Things we discovered:
-We had never seen a more nondescript house. Huge and tan, with cement walls on the first floor and siding on the second. Very hard to tell how it looked inside. The current tenants were home, so SK told me to stop peering in the windows.
-One block up the hill was a jaw-droppingly gorgeous park with epic views of the city skyline.
-The neighborhood itself was muy sleepy, but within a 10-minute walk we were in the Mission, arguably the city’s coolest neighborhood (with the best Mexican food). I ate shrimp tacos that made me want to cry or find Jesus or marry the apartment.
On Friday night at a party, I couldn’t stop talking about how nervous I was to meet the landlady. People were kind. They said things like, “Just be yourself, Jesse, and she’ll be sure to like you” and “You might not even like the apartment!”
Warm words for the sweaty young squire, but they did little good. I was well past the point of playing it cool.