Par for the course

Maddie took a big whopping shit on my issue of Cosmo and then pissed all over it for good measure. Damn — I never did get to read that article on “The Sex He’ll Die For.” Oh well — the loss ain’t mine! 😉

I wish she would have instead destroyed the copy of Apartment Guide that was lying on the floor next to it. I am more annoyed than anything by Place A’s rejection of me. I wrote to the property manager that apparently 14 years of paying rent/utilities on time doesn’t show up on one’s credit report. But then again, neither does being clean and quiet, either. Take your perfect-credit-score assholes and wipe your asses with them — and check out how many people they’re cramming into the place and how much food they leave rotting on countertops.

I ran into that with one of the places I looked at — a manager actually slipped and made a snarky comment about foreigners who leave food out and don’t use the fridge and BOY do they get bugs. Yeah. Splendid.

I was so put in the wrong social class. …

One Lonely Response to Par for the course

  1. Caterwauling :

    […] After my dream place rejected my sorry ass, I admit I was a bit unnerved. I figured, especially with these places with the sliding-scale security deposits (i.e., the yuckier the credit, the higher the deposit), I was screwed no matter even if I was approved somewhere. […]