9 out of 10
Would highly recommend.
Pairs wells with boxed wine. Because what else says class like this?
About a month ago, I heard some noises from the apartment next door. I was a little confused because there had never been any neighbors in the apartment, and the mail was always labeled as “no occupant.”
I heard something like “mumblemurmur loud sex mumblejumble.”
That gave me some pause. Were they talking about ME? I am the classiest of humans. I am pure 100% royalty in all the ways. Between the sheets, I’m a polite huma-
Oh god, I can’t keep that shit up. Of COURSE they were talking about me! For the first time ever, I acquired a boyfriend who could keep up with my insatiable thirst for having intercourse. I got laid every time I had the chance. I didn’t care if I was loud because you can be as loud as the hell you want when you’re fucking making love.
I ignored these illegal neighbors for as long as possible.
Until one day.
It all changed when my boyfriend was over. We were waiting for our delicious heaven BBQ Chicken Pizza. A security guard came tapping, gently rapping, a security guard came tapping on my chamber door. (Poe reference, for you know, literature reasons?)
I opened up and he introduced himself as Officer Carlos…something. All I caught was Carlos, honestly. He said that there had been squatters in the apartment next door, and asked if I had heard anything.
“Sure, Officer Carlos. I heard them about a week ago. These walls are thin.”
“Oh? What did you hear?”
“Uhm…’robble robble loud sex murmur annoying.’ I assumed they were talking about us the previous night, but I couldn’t be sure.”
At that moment, my poor boyfriend, and poor Officer Carlos both went a violent shade of red. It may be worth pointing out that I was in a robe at this point and NOTHING ELSE. My boyfriend was aware of this, and Officer Carlos probably inferred that. But it’s worse for Officer Carlos. My boyfriend is used to that shit. Poor Officer Carlos had no idea what he was walking into when he gently tapped on my door. Oh, Officer Carlos, you were blissfully ignorant. What would you give to go back?
At this precise moment, as the blood was slowly leaving my boyfriend’s face, and Officer Carlos was thoroughly making notes on the situation (avoiding ALL eye contact with either of us), the timer for the pizza went off. And like the sitcom I am, I went to retrieve the pizza from the over, being very careful to crouch and NOT show off my bum to the poor Officer Carlos.
He quickly finished his notes and left, and I never saw him again. After he left, my boyfriend just looked at me and said “You’re terrible, you know that?”
Yes, boyfriend. Yes I do.
Tag: classy
Indigo Moves Out!
6 out of 10 stars
Would only recommend to the strong of character.
Pairs well with a Manhattan. Because you’re an adult now.
Well, I’ve done it. I moved all of my physical possessions into a place that does not belong to a family member biologically obligated to let me live under their roof. It consisted of movement a few tables of various sizes, clothes in a dresser, a desk and a box spring/memory foam mattress. We accomplished this in ONE. DAY. Because my friends and family are baller.
This process is worthy of review for any adult. There are a few points to be made:
1.My apartment complex is some shit. This is because the buildings are old, which makes construction cheap. They claim to have put “millions of dollars” into renovations. I would believe they put A million. One single million.
2. I’m paying entirely too much for this. I pay about 500$ in rent for the room I live in now. The complex covers no utilities, and on top of that, does not offer energy. As such, we must pay about 100$ collectively to pepco every month, and an additional 80$ to the apartment complex itself. This does not include 60$ to Xfinity for the Internet. 240$ for a three-bedroom place. Because there are gaps in the windows, and the roommates can’t understand how thermostats work. Which brings us to #3.
3. Roommates are terrible. I have gotten into a fight with one roommate about the closet that she should not have. I have been in a constant silent war with the other about whether or not she should clean up after her cat. Also, neither knows how to fill a dishwasher. The cups go BETWEEN the tongs. On the TOP RACK. IT’S EFFICIENT. WAKE UP SHEEPLE.
4. The neighbors are terrible. The walls of this apartment are thin (see #1). As such, when the empty apartment next door was filled, I was not super excited. I knew I would hear conversations because THERE WERE SQUATTERS before someone legally rented it. One day, my devastatingly sexy boyfriend and I were enjoying a night of sex, and we got a little rowdy. Loudly from next door came a “SHUT THE FUCK UP.” My boyfriend almost had a heart attack. I burst out laughing. However, I did not get laid again that night, and my rage against neighbors has never ceased. Now, one of them snores.
5. Being independent is AWESOME. I will say it again. Being. Independent. Is. Awesome!!!! I have not had any of my roommates call at midnight to ask if I’ll be home. I have not had either of my roommates stop me on my way out the door to ask if I can help with the attic. I have been able to buy and eat as much cookie dough as I want. I can go for a run right afterwards, or sit on my bed and masturbate with one hand, with cookie dough in the other. Like a curvy, vivacious Jabba the Hut. Wee pee bo solo fuck cookie doe.
6. Paying rent makes you feel like a boss. I mean, there’s that good week before you pay rent, where you run around going “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Moneeeey!!!”But every time I look into my account and see $500 has been removed (presumably to pay shitty repairmen do shitty repairs), I feel like a big adult. I put on my adult pajamas and do a little IndepenDANCE because I just successfully paid rent.
So yes, moving out is a solid 6 out of 10. The benefits still outweigh the cons, and I hope that continues to be true for as long as I live. Then I will never live with family again, gods bless ’em.