Worst Roommate Entry: Little Yoav and the Big City (Part II)

June 10th, 2010 by Matt DiChiara| Posted in Apartment Life 2.0 | No Comments »

Over the next few weeks or so, we will be featuring articles from our very own Yoav Simchoni, as he details the events that led to his discovery of THE WORST ROOMATE OF ALL TIME.

Remember, as we stated in yesterday’s post, we are running a Worst Roommate of All Time Contest. This is Part II of the official MyNewPlace entry. You can read part I here.

A few weeks ago, I pontificated on the peculiarities of apartment hunting in San Francisco. I also expounded on several guidelines imperative for safely navigating yourself towards a great San Francisco pad with amazing roommates. Naturally, many of you were overwhelmed by the sagacity displayed in all matters regarding housing.

Humbled, you are likely wondering how it is that at the tender age of 22, I have managed to accumulate an astounding breadth of knowledge that would take a normal man a lifetime of subletting to accrue. The answer is simple. During my first 3 months of living in the city, I suffered through the gnarliest living situation outside of Bear dens. In this post, join me as I describe the apartment I moved into and neighborhood I lived in. This will set the stage for the final chapter of my installment in which you will be introduced to my roommates and their devious ways.

As I mentioned at the end of last week’s post, I moved into an apartment in a chic part of town known as the Hayes Valley. To be considered chic in San Francisco you really have to raise the bar.  Think organic yoga mats, Vegetarian whole-grain dogfood, dudes with pony tails, ten dollar avocado sandwiches and art galleries with artwork that looks like it’s been stolen from my crazy aunt in Santa Fe.

The house:

In a bid to strengthen renter’s rights, San Francisco enforces rent control which limits the amount by which owners can raise rent for the duration of an active lease. Taking advantage of this legislation, wily renters “hand down” leases to their roommates before moving out, keeping rents low for years. While this practice keeps rents cheap, it also keeps houses looking like they were designed by the architect of the bombing of Dresden. My apartment fell into this category, at $800 a month, it was an incredible bargain for the area, but the strains of 8 years without renovation and scores of roommates were everywhere. The carpets were stained with what I hope was only 2 out of the 3 possible bodily fluids. The walls were so chipped and grooved that they spelled out the entire first volume of War and Peace in Braille.

The kitchen was beyond filthy, the pantry was filled with trash that had time to decompose into mulch, evolve into a species of crab people which divided into two tribes, each worshipping their respective gods “nebu” and “krazm” develop nuclear weapons and bomb each other, leaving their own – newer but still stinky – trash as evidence of a civilization far from its halcyon days.

The bathroom – well it’s hard to say what it looked like, because in the 3 months I spent in the house there was no working light. What there often was, however, the scent of cigarettes and beer as my roommate had developed a penchant for smoking and drinking on this, the most regal of house chairs. Call it a double whammy, but as any follower of the superhero Daredevil knows, when one of your senses falters, the others compensate which meant a hyper acute sense of smell in exactly the place you don’t want it.

My room, last but not least, was actually quite nice. It was large, and had a bay window, no complaints except that it was a converted dining room and had two swinging doors which didn’t quite close. Consequence? Light beams and sound waves creep in. Okay if your roommates are into sitting quietly and reading, but not good if your roommates are into drunk shouting matches.

Having introduced the setting for our drama, join me next week as I finally cut to the chase and introduce you to my roommates, and to the sage which ended with a giant fire in my apartment and a 5-day eviction notice!

Adieu!