Some Phone Etiquette Fo' That'Ass!

It's Friday -- The Good Friday we've all been hearing about, the same one the Internet's been abuzz over since a sect of Americans started refuting Daily Pleasures for this Lent character.  Maybe I've been too self-involved to notice.

And fuck-fucking-fuck Apartment Hunting, like my screenplay Apartment Hunting sure is draining: a Domesticated Wraith sucking the life force from pressing need to relocate.  I'm supposed to find a place in Chicago's Pilsen neighborhood by May 1st in conjunction with a restaurant opening I'll be part of.  I'm trying to go the sublet route because I, for many reasons I'll relay in future posts, want to move to LA in six months.  However with the totally tubular convergence of my abjectly repugnant credit score, finding a good deal to save some cash, and having to deal with Stranger roommates it's been a smidge more arduous than I'd like.

And what's with the Goddamn Credit History Sanctimonious Bullshit!!!!!!!!?

I, yes, I, Me, the terrific Urban Dandy who speaks so beautifully, Royally fucked up my credit somewhere in the vicinity of 9 years ago, and everything since has been heaped on my irresponsible, pariah-of-the-economy Pile ever since.  This makes finding an apartment less than stellar.  I'm actually an awesome tenant, living-wise and always pay rent on time-wise, but in the eyes of those damning property owners: I'm the lowest of the low -- I'm Robert Downey Junior in the late 90's drug-user-outcast-from-Hollywood low.  Oh hey! you have good references, great rental history: We don't give a fuck!

And then, from these Gems of Society that just happen to own some real estate, I find a social-retardness like few interactions I've the displeasure to come by in my days, weeks, months:

Here's a phone call I attempted to make w/r/t a potentially great apartment:

Me: Hi, may I speak with Debbie please?

Debbie (5 second pause, and out of breath) umm, yeah, this is she? (she sounds confused)

Me: (laughing) OK?  Well I'm calling in reference to the apartment I saw on Craigslist.

Debbie: (pause again, like she's being interrupted, or just having sex, or taking a shit): OK.

Me: (bewildered) Is it available for May 1st?

Debbie: (irritated, very blue-collar sounding): Well it's available now [It's April 10th mind you] but I guess I could do May 1st...?

Me: You know what, you're not being very professional I don't think I'd want to rent from you.

Debbie: (upbeat) OK!

Me: If you want to rent an apartment you should really learn to speak properly and professionally on the phone.

Click.

Are you fucking kidding me?  This was an Ad on Craigslist, with pictures, and Debbie's phone number instructing people to call, ostensibly, to rent the Goddamn apartment, and this is the way you carry yourself?  I Guarantee you this woman is slovenly, overweight and homely, but I, I with my bad credit -- I'm the Asshole.

Get your Couches ready, your Futons unfurled, your floors dusted: I'm surfing the righteous waves of homelessness, and it's high tide.

xoxoxoxox,

Michael