Ani MollerOne o'clock, two o'clock, three o'clock rock

Today, I cried in the supermarket. On a Friday evening as everyone is getting their groceries before the weekend. I am such a pussy.

We were at New World in the City Centre getting Peter’s fix of Celestial Seasonings Green Tea with Lemon, Honey & Ginseng (I actually had to call the distributor for him, he loves it that much). I was wandering down the baking ingredients aisle when some lady smashed her cart into the back of my foot. Right at the base of my Achilles tendon. I did a, “Ffffffffuuuu-aaaaah!” and hobbled over to the shelves to get my balance to see if my foot was bleeding. It was one of those pains like when you stub your big toe really hard, and you have to sit on the ground and hold your toe, just because your brain says you need to hold it even though holding it does not help.

Anyway, evil trolley lady says, “Oh, sorry. Is there anything I can do?” In hindsight, I should have asked her to get me some frozen peas, but instead I just said no in a “go away before I cry” type of way. Peter comes over to me and asks if I’m alright and I say yes but my heel hurts like a motherfucker. At this time, I am able to succeed in pulling my sock down to see that the skin is hanging off but it’s not bleeding. For some reason, at that moment my eyes felt a bit wet. I say to Peter, “I better not cry.” Apparently, saying that actually made me cry.

So there I am, crying in front of the olive oils thinking about how I am crying in the supermarket in front of all these people over a scraped heel that isn’t even bleeding. This makes me cry even more. I was also wearing non-waterproof mascara.

It’s been quite a few years since I’ve had to look for a flat in Wellington, but I don’t remember it ever being as bad as it seems to be right now. Luckily, we only had to look for about two weeks for a place, which meant we only had to look at approximately 20 disgusting flats. I wish I was exaggerating.

The first thing that pissed me off was when we were looking in the Dominion Post were the prices. Apparently it is the time of the year when shitty landlords jack up the prices because they have the pick of the bunch and desperate people (such as ourselves) who are somewhat willing to pay out the nose for what is potentially a fucking dump. When I left New Zealand, I was living in a $400 per week brand new 2-bedroom apartment in the city centre with a garage (although, it was actually a shitty build with paper-thin walls and crusties living next door who used to play stupidly loud music in the middle of the night and punch our front door when we complained). I thought that place was pretty flash, seeing how I was previously living in a somewhat rundown 2-bedroom upstairs flat with a garage just on the city centre outskirts for $240 a week. Now it seems that $350 is a very average price for a 2-bedroom flat in the suburbs.

I also kept coming across things like this while reading the classifieds:

MT COOK cute 2br renovated villa with all whiteware inc dishwasher, polished floors, garage, garden, available immediately, $330pw SORRY PROPERTY LET

I mean, WHAT THE FUCK. Why even run that ad? Why waste my precious five seconds reading that? Argh!

A new thing that I noticed while doing the flat hunt was that these flats were being shown like open homes. I’m talking 15 people waiting on the street for 1:30pm while the owner put a sign up on the gate while we all rush the apartment and someone quickly says, “I’ll take it!!!!!!” and then does a victory lap around the living room while the owner gets the lease out, and while everyone else is still standing there looking in cupboards and checking the bathroom. Or, the 15 people are quickly looking at the flat and one person says, “I’ll take it!!!!!!” to which the owner or agent says, “Oh, yes, fill out this application form. We still have another 150 people to show the flat to, so we’ll get back to you.” Again, WHAT THE FUCK. If someone wants it, why not give the flat to them subject to a credit check?

Also, due to the open home-esque views, we saw the same couple at three places who I jokingly referred to as “our competition”. They were (are?) in the same position as us – have been overseas for five years, and are now staying with their parents as adults. Fun.

In addition to the crazy prices, I also noticed that the majority of the places we viewed were fucking repulsive. Stains on the carpet, mould in the bathroom, filthy walls, and trash littering the yard. Again, WHAT THE FUCK. Why bother showing a place that looks disgusting with a high rental price? Surely, only a complete dolt would bother renting it.

Some examples of great houses we’ve looked at:

• A house in Mt Victoria that had all of the windows on one side covered by a house built 25cm away, a rotting window frame that was almost falling out, and trash out the front ($350pw)
• A townhouse in Newtown that was right behind the McDonald’s on Riddiford Street so when the wind blew you could smell the rotting trash, it was also absolutely filthy with unfinished chipboard and water stains ($420pw)
• An upstairs flat in Newtown that had a shopping cart in the yard (need I say more) ($345pw)
• An expensive and supposedly very posh furnished apartment on The Terrace that had busted up whiteware from the 1970s and mould in the bathroom ($450pw)
• A really nice downstairs flat in Kelburn that was nicely laid out inside and had been freshly painted, but absolutely stunk of mould, the washing line was also in a dark alley underneath the upstairs neighbours deck ($350pw)
• An awful apartment in Stadium Gardens in Thorndon that looked like it was built by dodgy builders with no certificates who were used to building disgusting and cheap looking hotels, which was shown to us by an oldish guy from the property management company who was drunk, greasy, annoying, and extremely fat in a crinkled and ill-fitting suit ($420pw)

Another thing I noticed is that our prospective landlords were asking really personal and/or fucking stupid questions. My sister is also looking for a new place for herself, her fiancé, and her kid. We both got classics such as:

“Do you have much in savings?”
“Are you married?”
“Will your child scribble on the wallpaper?”

My sister has also noticed that people do not want to rent to anyone with children and these people are not doing a good job of pretending to not to be biased and potentially breaking the law. My sister has found that landlords will tell her something different on the telephone when she mentions she has a daughter, than to my mother who calls and mentions her granddaughter coming to visit – for example, telling my sister the place has no yard and is unfenced, to telling my mother the complete opposite. Also, telling my sister than the house is unsuitable for children but not asking my sister’s question of, “How exactly is it unsuitable?”

Basically, renting in Wellington is shit. The quality of the housing is awful, especially compared to the places I’ve lived in overseas, and the rental prices are extremely over-inflated. The agents are useless bigoted twats who seemingly don’t actually want to rent their properties. I have also learnt that “tidy” in a property ad means “disgusting”, and “cute” means “old”.

I am so glad we found a place in a decent area that wasn’t completely over our budget, owned by a woman who actually seems to be a decent human being. My sister however, is still looking…

• Everywhere is uncomfortable – the mattress doesn’t work with the bed frame so we have to sleep on the floor. I don’t have a proper desk or desk chair, instead I have a round metal outdoor table and chair, which is really fucking uncomfortable. The couch cushions were smooshed by someone considerably heavier than me, and there is no way I’m going to replace them because I never knew how expensive cushions were.
• It’s not private – we have loads of windows, which is nice for an apartment, but some of those windows are in a 12ft glass dome that looks out on at least 50 apartments and has no blinds. Our flat is so small that someone on the other side of the road at our level could see all of our house and everything we’re doing.
• It’s too small – I don’t know what the square footage is but it feels like 250sqft. And my boyfriend works from home. We have a living area, and a pokey bedroom. This does not work with two people when one works from home. Let me assure you.
• It’s fucking dusty – the floorboards in the living area weren’t laid properly and have big cracks between them. The cracks are such that shit can’t be swept or vaccumed up from them. Also, Manchester is so polluted that nasty black car shit dust is always ending up on stuff. Gross.
• It’s broken – the oven and hobs are wired incorrectly and the fuse likes to break. All the appliances are brown and from the ’70s. The toaster says “Made in West Germany”. The fridge ices up so badly that even if it is on low it will freeze up enough in a month that the trays have been taken hostage and the ice is trying to eat our condiments. The hot water cylinder has been leaking onto the terrace and ground 5-floors below for over a year. The windows and doors all have gaps. Wood around and underneath the bath tub is rotten. Two door handles are half-falling off and one can’t be fixed because it’s been screwed in too many times and the wood is full of holes.
• It’s stinky and gross – this is due to dust and the fact that it wasn’t cleaned properly before we moved in. The people who lived here before us were heavy smokers, and we had to throw loads of stuff away because it was yellow and covered in sticky tar. The walls are stained yellow.
• It’s noisy – at the end of the street is a stupid bar for stupid people and a stupid Greek restaurant for stupid drunk women. About twice a week the Greek restaurant brings about 20 customers out on the street at about midnight to dance in a circle and scream. The stupid bar for stupid people just has stupid drunk people that come out at 2am and scream like they are being raped and/or murdered. Naturally, this wakes me up a lot.
• Our landlord wanted to put our rent up an extra £100 a month – I don’t need to elaborate on this one. Crack. Squirrels.

I can’t wait to leave. ONE MORE MONTH.