Moving – The Apartment Hunt

 

After my eventful drive to Port Credit I was glad to see my mother waiting for me.  Now, I’m as independent as the next girl, but there is nothing like a big ‘ol hug from mom after a life-altering experience.  She drove all the way in from Farm Country to assist with the apartment hunt.  And we were ready to take on the rental market.   

 

In my big purse I had all of the supplies needed for a successful day of real estate shopping.  For anyone considering a similar activity, it is imperative that you bring along the proper supplies and accessories.  You will need one measuring tape, a note pad, a pen or pencil, a map of the area, a train, bus and subway schedule, a list of stops all of these modes of transportation make, a few bottles of water, a change of clothes, a calculator (for us mathematically challenged folks), checkbook, wallet, bank account information and trail mix

 

You can’t go anywhere without trail mix. 

 

So I had enough supplies to scale Mount Everest a few times over, and the funny thing is, so did my mother.  In fact, her extra big purse managed to fit (in addition to the above items): a hair brush, makeup bag complete with 4 shades of lipstick, gum, some crumpled paper, 4 pairs of reading glasses, Wetnaps, and 37 packages of Wendy’s ketchup that she felt ‘might come in handy’.  We were set.  (I was told by a certain someone to mention that my mother is thin, rich and gorgeous, not to mention elegant and generous.) 

 

Our first stop was a shady looking building across from the GO station in Port Credit.  It would have been perfect except for the fact that the unit was on the ground floor facing the GO tracks.  I could see myself living night after night of insomnia, prevented from sleep by the regular “choo choo” of the trains.  Not to mention the trains headlights beaming through my window.  Waking up to an X files-esque atmosphere of darkness, odd moving lights and a low rumbling noise may bring me closer to comprehending life on other planets, but it would freak me out! (Not to mention get VERY annoying VERY fast).

 

Building number 2-10 had various problems including bugs, a missing fridge or stove, absence of screens in the windows, creepy building managers, dirty hallways, lack of parking, missing bedrooms (I was assuming the bedroom was MIA – all that was left was a closet measuring 6x8.  Unless that was the bedroom…) or an outrageous rental price.  I know there are some beautiful places in Port Credit.  I have heard success stories from several people who have lived there, or know someone who has lived there.  The problem was that I couldn’t find any of these places!  They must have watched me approach the building and lit up the “no vacancy” sign or refused to answer the door when I buzzed.  I can just hear all of the building managers peeping around the shades of the lobby windows saying “Oh no, here comes that Leslie girl. Let’s make her day really bad! (Snicker snicker).  Quick, pretend that no one is home”.

 

Discouraged, we decided to drive a little east to a pretty sounding place called Long Branch.  We waved ‘bye bye’ to Port Credit, and drove along Lakeshore (another hellish experience, I might add) to our next destination.

 

When I opened the car door at Long Branch, I almost hurled.  What was that smell?  Was something dying?  Did someone have a few too many beans for lunch?  No no, it was just the stench of Lake Ontario.  I had heard rumors that the lake was smelly the closer one got to Toronto.  I would have never believed it until I got a whiff of it.    

 

I got back in the car, promptly.

 

In an attempt to avoid the odor of Lake Ontario, we drove around looking for acceptable apartment buildings.  What we found were even more run-down and horrific than Port Credit.  I actually felt my skin crawl when walking into one building.  I wasn’t sure if the carpets were brown naturally, or from decades of encrusted dirt.  Needless to say, mom and I got back in the car as quick as we could and whizzed far away from Long Branch. 

 

By the way, who chose that name?  Did someone forget how to spell ‘Beach’?  Is it named after an extremely long tree branch? 

 

The day had disappeared, and nothing acceptable had been found.  More importantly, no shopping had been done!  Discouraged, I dropped my mother off at the train station, waved good bye to her as she left for the country, and braved myself for that wretched Hurontario Street.