We were late. We always forget about parking in the city, and that it adds an extra ten minutes to where you’re going. We parked and half walked, half ran to the door. There was no sign of anyone. I’ve heard stories of people showing up late to open houses for apartments and not getting the chance to look at it because of it. I emailed our contact twice more, called three times and left one voicemail. I don’t know how I didn’t come off as crazy. Fifteen minutes later we see people walking down the stairs towards us. It’s our contact with a family of stupid interested people. Our contact introduces himself and invites us to tour the laundry room with them all. His name is James. We see the laundry room. We’ve had one before and it’s about what you would expect. Still cheaper than a laundromat. The other family leaves and James takes us up to the apartment. Us being late worked out perfectly because we got our own private tour and I’m pretty sure we all wouldn’t have fit in the place.
It’s crowded with furniture, dark, and smells like cat. The current tenant tried to fit their life in the apartment. There was at least two large pieces of furniture in every room. They had black curtains on the windows and dark linens everywhere. It was tiny and cramped. Yet, the windows were romantic, wide, and tall. The moldings and trim were detailed and demanding. The glass door into the bedroom was swoon-worthy. The hardwood floors were beautifully authentic and preciously weathered.
Immediately Brooks points out that our beautiful couch won’t fit and I decided that it would be worth it to sell it if it meant living here. I’m practically handing over the deposit as the cat is sitting on the bed, staring at me. Brooks thanks James for his time and we head home.
The car ride is mostly quiet. About fifteen minutes in we start gently discussing the possibility of living there. I’m trying to exhaustively hide my excitement. He knows me too well. I can tell he knows I want it by how reserved he is to encourage the thought. We talk about what it would mean and what we could expect our lives to look like if we make this move. Moving to Seattle had been somewhat of an afterthought. We had exhausted any other suburban option of the eastside. We had looked at these apartments as somewhat of a whim. Now that we had found one we were seriously considering, we had to map out what this would mean for us and for our future.
A few hours later
we send in our application
with a deposit.