When I was fresh out of college, I couldn’t wait to get my first apartment.
FREEDOM. SEX. FREEDOM.
I had already acquired many pieces of furniture and art and sets of dishes all lovingly wrapped and waiting for me in my parent’s garage- like Christmas on steroids, except I had gotten these things for myself because Santa had gotten a little stingy (with two kids in college).
I looked and looked and hunted and looked, until I finally found the PERFECT place- a one bedroom in a pre-war building, with 14 foot tall ceilings, a non-working marble wrapped fireplace, a small kitchenette carved out of a small hallway, fungus mushrooms budding at the base of the leaky toilet, gang warfare outside the windows, a basement laundry filled with spiders and rapists, and a million to one odds your car would be stolen- twice.
It had three locks on the doors- for only half of my monthly net!
EUREKA! The Motherload! (And my mother, btw, had a mouth full to say).
I, of course, moved right in.
This address, despite its dubious surroundings, lasted about a year and a half (When I had to roll off the bed at 3am, to find safety on the floor from stray bullets flying outside my window I thought maybe it was time to pull-up roots).
Well, the Times They Are A Changed.
Our daughter, Princess Bryn, lives in one of several uber cutting-edge apartment complexes in Lincoln Park Chicago, at a little place called RESIDE where there motto is, “…committed to providing a memorable rental experience, in neighborhoods we care about and support.” Where they want you to, “…love where you live”, and provide, “cutting edge technology” that gives you seamless access to information, with “city conveniences”, all the while being surrounded by, “a responsible environment.”
Just like my first place…
|Well played Princess.
|Community Herb Garden
I had a Community Park filled with shell casings and dog shit.
Same thing right?
|The flocked wallpaper that
decorates the hallways.
Not quite as authentic as the graffiti and dangling light bulbs
outside my first apartment’s door.