Apartment hunting took little more than two days. Before I left Fairbanks I thought I’d get a place in the Government Hill neighborhood since it would just be a walk from work, but three things converged to result in my never even visiting the complex: I never heard from them after faxing in my application, I learned from a few people that Government Hill is like Mountain View minus the guns, and it’s on the opposite side of base from where I’ll be working, so not really a walk afterall.
I saw all manner of places, from elegant mansions to total dives. A tour of the 5 bedroom house in the doctor/lawyer neighborhood was given by the oriental equivalent of Smithers. He had an unnerving way of saying some of the same things 5 minutes later, smiled too often, came across as someone who doesn’t know how to deal with bad news, is a clean freak. The place gave me a bad vibe, something out of the twighlight zone. Even though it would’ve been the cheapest option, it was immediately removed from consideration when I learned that none of the roommates were girls.
The poor condition of the shit-hole residences was never suggested by the exorbitant monthly payments the landlords were seeking. In one decrepit dump sporting broken floor tiles a humorous exchange took place, beginning with my father’s inquiry loaded with faked interest “When will this place be ready to be moved into?” and ending with the landlord’s reply, “Well, it’s pretty much ready right now.”
Also looked at some properties managed by Weidner Apartment Homes, a huge company that has something of a monopoly on the major apartment complexes in town. The nice, if sad, thing about dealing with a monopoly is that the application process is the same everywhere and the $25 background/credit check fee need only be paid once, since every property uses the same results. One of these Weidner apartments turned out to be my temporary 1st choice.
The last place I looked at was the best; a 1 bedroom in a triplex owned by a person, not a massive apartment housing company. 725 sq ft, all utils included, huge back yard, quiet neighborhood, and about $300 cheaper than the 420 sq ft studio apartment that had been my prior first choice (I don’t even smoke pot). To top it off, the landlord was a very reasonable, easy-going guy. If I’d gotten the place I’d have questioned life more than I already am. What happened is, even though I was approved to lease (as was my father, in case my lack of credit history required that he co-sign), the girl whose tour of the place was ending just as we arrived was approved as well. In the interest of objectivity, the landlord gave her the lease option first, and she signed it that night. Apparently, she’d been apt. hunting for 2 weeks! She probably deserves it more than I do; I’ve been having more than my share of good luck this spring/summer.
That night we stayed with Katie and Doug. It was great to visit with them after so long. I’m glad they’re here.
I’ve neglected something worth mentioning. The easy-going triplex landlord felt bad that I’d just narrowly missed out on the apt., and wanted to make sure I had something else lined up. We told him about the studio apt., but stressed that we liked the 1 bedroom more. I need to give my dad credit, it was probably through his communication ability that the landlord, after several minutes of conversation with my father, offered this juicy morsel: his Yugoslavian parents have a duplex not far away that they’re looking to rent out beginning Sept. 1st. Minutes later we’re following him down the road as he leads the way towards his parent’s place. We pull into the driveway and check the place out. He says the only downside is that it’s fully furnished. His parents occupy the other half of the duplex and are both home now. He asks them if it’s alright if we come in, they say yes, we talk for awhile, interspersing words with smiles, a joke that “we’re Yugoslavian, we’ll give you the shirt off our back, but if you’re trouble we’ll take you out into the street and shoot you.” My father and I agree it’s better than the studio: larger, cheaper, quieter. So, basically, I’m only staying here in the studio for August (I signed a month-to-month lease).
Even given the advantages of the 1 bedroom with Yugoslavian neighbors, my dad can see that this studio will be a hard place to leave. It’s in a building very recently built, radiant in-floor heating, rooftop patio, in-suite washer and dryer, granite countertop, a pretty luxurious place. It also has a bed that pulls down from the wall, I sleep on the mattress in my sleeping bag. This should suffice for your daily dose of irony: my non-driver status had no bearing on my being assigned a parking space in the indoor garage. I’ll be parking the vehicle I don’t have in space #13, a number of superstition. I’d like to have Fridays off, working a compressed schedule of 10hr days Mon-Thurs.
I already like the big city more than Fairbanks. There are so many great places to eat, entire grocery stores that put Fred Meyer’s natural foods section to shame, at least two theaters that show movies for $3, clean ocean air (clean being a relative term, used here relative to the quality of what is often breathed in Fairbanks…smoke or ice fog, take your pick), an actual downtown, a more liberal populace, a more happenin’ scene. I think people here are generally happier than people in Fairbanks. Evidence of this was hidden in my father’s comment that he finds Anchorage drivers less aggressive.
I bought a bus pass for the month. I’ll be deciding on a work schedule on my first day, I’m guessing. The earliest bus could have me at work by 9:00, but they want me to arrive at 8:00 on Monday, so I planned to bike in. Then, someone who works for the USACE called and said he’d heard I was looking for a way to get to work and offered to pick me up on his way. WTF?
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