Not Fewer Than Three Walls, And A Roof
I am awfully tired of apartment hunting. Every day begins the same. Scour the usual sites—Craigslist, Louer, Voir, Toutmontreal, Hour—dig up items that fall within the desired price range, click, note contact information or send an email. After work, phone, talk for a minute or two and set up a visit. Take the Metro over (I’m not so desperate as to look for places outside the reach of the Metro yet), shake hands, exchange pleasantries, struggle with simple French sometimes, see the apartment, leave for the next place, or to go home and search for a few more.
Over the months this has become ritual. My standards seem reasonable. I’ll live in any apartment within fifteen minutes walk of a Metro stop, with nearly any configuration of roommates, straight, gay, French, English, whatever you’ve got. Or no roommates. Or with a crazy old Japanese lady who hangs stringy beige undergarments over the shower rod. I ask for basic appliances, access to laundry, a kitchen with at least one working stove element, no imposed lifestyle constraints (there seem to be many vegetarian-only places out there, to say nothing of all the “female roommates only” stuff), and that some form of heating exist. Also, I want it to be cheap. No need for clawfoot baths and kitchen islands, swimming pools and tennis courts, proximity to nightclubs and restaurants. A modest place, modestly priced, without any serious deformities, in a building without crack hookers, that’s all I ask.
Other people have done it, so why can’t I? Every Montrealer has stories of stately 6 1/2s shared by three students for a total of $500 plus hydro, or loony landlords who haven’t raised the rent in forty years. The number of people who’ve “lucked in” to a great place here seem to outnumber those who haven’t. Times seem not to have changed much. Craigslist reveals apartments big and small, for much cheaper than in other cities, new ones appearing every day. I’ve visited friends’ places that look twice as good as mine for the same rent. Telling people what I pay for my spartan 3 1/2 inspires gasps only when it doesn’t inspire guffaws. In Montreal? they ask. You can do much better than that.
Entering a new apartment my eyes are drawn immediately to the weaknesses, as apartments in my price range are seldom sold on their strengths. Often three or four glaring problems leap out; water damage, lack of a thermostat, questionable people hanging around the building, smells of any kind. I’ve stood and feigned interest in sales pitches, some obligation to politeness holding me in place. Most of the apartments have been poor or mediocre. I found one excellent place, beautiful, cozy, almost perfect, that ended up being rented to the brother of the tenant. Others I found too late. And every day, there are a few more to look at.
Discouragement hasn’t set in yet, but mental fatigue has. I still see at least three apartments a week, confident that the right match is out there. Finding a good apartment does not seem to be a skill. There are no techniques, no great mysteries, no mastery of arcana to put you above the competition except for knowing the right web sites. It is more a test of the will, requiring perseverance, a tireless and undiscouraged resolve to drag yourself to the Metro, to each new building and unknown street, each new landlord and neighbourhood, checklist in hand, calling people and leaving messages, saying no thanks.
If there is a skill it lies in not saying yes to the wrong place. I’ve said that feeble yes before, to desperate or pushy landlords, to help out friends, to commit, to get it over with. My current apartment is one such yes, hardly a bad place but chosen hastily on my arrival in Montreal, pressed for time, unaware that I could get more for less with a bit of effort. A hasty yes is a mistake you live inside, seldom with horrible consequences but with the lesson decidedly learned for next time. I’ve learned that lesson well, and I’m determined to prove I’ve learned it. If my standards are high it is because in this city they can be.
UPDATE: No later than a day after posting this did I hap upon a sumptuous flat, Plateau-ish, with every amenity and for a fantastic price, in a neighbourhood next to a good one–albeit with a robust supply of nearby homeless, or as the present tenant calls them, “the local fauna”. But lovely, and I took it. If you were preparing a missive of pity for the comments, you can save it for when I start complaining about the cold winter in a week or so.
Posted to:
(3 comments)
