Many people might call me a loser. Even though I don't have many negative attributes, I just haven't been able to really get what I want out of life. This blog is a means of helping me figure out what things went wrong and how they went wrong, but will not offer any solutions on how I can fix my problems. There will be no epiphanies here. I am trying to take a light-hearted look at my life, despite the many dark areas.
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Apartment #5: 4069 Idaho St., San Diego, CA (1993)
When I was looking for an apartment for Chez, Joad and me to live in, I was hoping I could find something that didn't cost much more than what I was paying in December of 1992. During my search, I found an ad for a studio apartment for $295 a month. I was hoping the studio would be as large as my old apartment in Denver. I called the landlord and asked if the apartment was large enough for two adults and a 15-month-old child. The landlord swore up and down that it was large enough. He told me I could just go to the address on my own and check it out, since the door was open. I went in and found that he had misled me. The main room was slightly larger than the studio where I was currently living in. The only difference was that the bathroom had a full-sized tub. On top of that, the apartment was pretty much in disrepair. I had no choice but to never call that landlord back again.
So, I realized that I was going to probably have to pay about $100 more for a one-bedroom. I found this place on Idaho Street, no far from where I lived. It was just a couple of streets east and close to University Avenue. It was $400 a month. When I called, I was instructed to see the person in one of the apartments and he would let me in to look at it. I was impressed by the exterior, with that classy-looking "Corinthian Apartments" sign on the outside. After being let in, the living room was very nice. The kitchen had a dishwasher. What surprised me was going into the back and seeing a bedroom. I had been so used to my studio, I forgot that this apartment would have an extra room. I knew right away that I wanted to rent this place.
In addition, there was a park right across the street. This would be a great place for Joad to go out and run around from time to time. I couldn't believe how great this apartment was.
I went over to the property management company. They had me pay money so they could do a credit check. This was the first time I had to shell out money for someone to do a credit check. There was a move-in deal for one month's free rent. But it worked like this: You paid half of the regular amount for the first month and then half of the regular amount for the sixth month. It was still a good deal. My credit check was approved and I paid the deposit and half the first month's rent. I was ready to move in.
I brought my stuff over from the old apartment on 01/31/92. I was setting up my things in the apartment as the clock hit midnight and the new year rang in. I remember I was listening to 91X finish up its year-end countdown of the tops songs of 1992 and U2's "One" has been selected as the most popular choice. I went to sleep pretty soon after that.
When I woke up the next morning, I needed to get something to eat. Even though I was a couple of blocks away from El Cajon Boulevard, almost all the fast food restaurants were closed for New Year's Day. I was fortunate enough to find that Jack in the Box was open.
The next day, my co-worker Tond was kind enough to bring his pickup over so we could get the furniture and crib and bring them back to the apartment. The first thing we found out was that we couldn't get the crib through the door in the bedroom. I was going to have to take it apart and re-assemble it in the bedroom. Even though I was going to be leaving that night, I had the furniture set up the way I wanted it. However, I still had my belongings scattered all over the apartment. I was just going to have to deal with that when I came back in a few days with Chez and Joad.
What happened next will be the subject of the next several posts, but I only lived in that apartment for seven months. (Yeah, SPOILER ALERT! That thing between me and Chez did not work out. As if you were surprised by that.) I had to move out because I had been fired from the Hillcrest Cinemas.
This was probably one of the most normal apartments I've ever lived in. There weren't any quirks worth noting. I didn't really get a chance to know the neighbors that well. It was mostly older people when I first moved in.
The only real problem was that, after I moved out, the property management company charged me $25 for cleaning the oven when we never even used it. (We only used the burners.) However, I had to stop griping when I realized they didn't charge me for breaking a towel rack in the bathroom. So, I pretty much came out even on that.
It was a very nice apartment and very difficult to leave and move into a roommate situation. Especially considering that I only ever got the apartment all to myself for the last two months I lived there.
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