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Two Friday nights ago, my flatmates K, M, and N were teetering on the edge of depression with a housing crisis that loomed over our heads: we needed to find a new place, fast. We needed a place that could accommodate five (the four of us, plus E) within walking distance to campus and a reasonable monthly rent. We knew we were asking for a miracle, going apartment-hunting so late into the semester, but the bottom line remains: we cannot stay in our current pad. We have to go.

After several rat holes and many answering machines later, we attended a viewing for a house two blocks way from campus. We weren’t expecting much and were ready to be disappointed, but it was not so. Pulling into the generous driveway of a two-storey house, we oohed and aahed at every bedroom, the large kitchen, the wonderful dining room. Even the basement was beautiful!

“This place is being rented out because some of the guys living here are moving out,” the soft-spoken landlord quips. “If two of the guys decide they don’t want to stay, the place will be open by May.”

Later when we clamber back into the car, the response is unanimous: we love it. It fulfilled our criteria of having nicely-sized bedrooms, a huge kitchen, and a very decent rent rate. All we needed now was confirmation that the remaining two tenants will choose to leave with their buddies. Granted, E was mildly nervous about the prospect of sharing one bathroom with a household of four girls, but we abate his fears as best we could. He calms down and decides yes, the house is perfect.

Last Friday night, the landlord calls K to update her on the situation. M, N, and I look on anxiously as she mutters plenty of Okays and Mm-hmms. A little over five minutes later, K puts the phone down and sucks in her breath.

“What?”

“Well,” K shifts in her seat, “he says that the two guys currently staying there want to keep the house. But he also says that he’ll try to work out a deal with them so they will move out by May; he says he likes us, thinks we’re a nice bunch of kids, and wants us to have the house.”

“So basically everything depends whether or not those two guys find another place?”

K nods mutely. We spend the next twenty minutes pacing around in nervous anticipation. What if they reel in new people to replace their old roommates? We’d have to go out and look for another place. But how can any other place stand up to what that lovely little house had to offer?

Twenty minutes later, the landlord calls back. We cross our fingers and shut our eyes. After about ten seconds, the corners of K’s mouth curl into a grin.

Next Friday, we will sign the lease for the house.

I Had Visions, I Was In Them
Posted on April 7th, 2008