Finding an apartment is one of life's most unpleasant tasks, somewhere behind salt mining and ostrich wrangling. When interviewing to be someone's roommate, not only do you have to be witty and charming, but also fit into the completely arbitrary criteria of the interviewer (the bastard).
Most people try to be charming and polite, but what if you went on roommate interviews being disturbing and weird? That's the premise behind my latest experiment, as I try to find a roommate in San Francisco.
"LOWER HAIGHT room in friendly household. 4 mins to bus, share kitchen and bathroom, $630 per month."
I decide to look at the room under the persona of Harold McFarley III, an accomplished accordionist. I stroll up to the apartment, where a middle-aged gentleman in a cardigan sweater is waiting by the front door.
"Have you come about the room?"
"Yes, is it in there?" I say, pointing inside. I'm hoping he'll catch the absurdity of the question.
"Yes," the middle-aged sweater-sporting gentleman says, unlocking the front door.
I enter the doorway, give the hall a quick once-over, and stretch out my arms.
"I'll take it!"
Before he can respond, I have my billfold open and I'm pulling out handfuls of money. The cardigan man seems puzzled.
"Don't you want to look at the room first?"
I let the question sink in for a moment. I ponder it with grave seriousness.
"OK!"
We parade toward the room. He opens the door, reconfirming my previous enthusiasm. Without blinking an eye, I say in a monotone voice, "Yes-this-is-good-I-will-take-it." Once again I'm pulling out handfuls of money.
The cardigan man looks at me.
"What do you do?"
"I'm an accomplished accordionist!"
This seems to sit OK with him. He doesn't press it further. Enthusiastically, I start elaborately explaining what I plan to do with the room.
"...and over here I'm going to put my stuffed panda collection. And on this wall I'm going to put my photos of Wolf Blitzer!" I ask him if he knows Wolf Blitzer, making a slight dancing motion. He hesitates and says yes, but I think he's only being polite. In reality, the room looks like one where you'd find some depressed Morrissey fan in black, hanging from the light fixture.
Just then the doorbell rings.
"That's someone else who's come to look at the room."
"What?!" I yell.
I look crushed as we go to answer the door. I follow at Cardigan Man's heel. My world is crumbling! This cannot be! Cardigan Man explains that these are some people who looked at the room the day before, and I should call him later. I feel betrayed!
An average-looking couple enters the house. I sense a rivalry. While walking out, I claim my territory.
"That room shall be mine!" I shout at the rival couple. "Yes, it shall be mine!"
Before I leave the group confused and in stony silence, I add the final word.
"AND DON'T MESS ANYTHING UP IN MY ROOM!" Then I slam the door behind me.
WOULD THEY LET ME MOVE IN? Apparently the other people were more charming than I was, as I never got a call back.
I was defeated, but only temporarily. Read on.
Next: The Foreign Exchange Student!
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