Instructions to My Apartment


This apartment is kind of a piece of shit. I am sorry. The landlord often disappears to somewhere that is probably not actually Bangladesh, so we make do with what we have. In order to utilize the house to its fullest, simply follow the instructions contained in this pamphlet.

If you have made it this far, I can only assume that you have made your way up the increasingly Rickety-Ass Steps to the fourth floor and somehow survived. Congratulations. As you can see, repairs have begun on these recently, and by recently I mean Within the Past Year. They will not be finished. This is simply the way of things. Enjoy your trip down these upon your departure from the premises – they are substantially less frightening when declined, and no less dangerous.

The doorknob falls off the front door sometimes. This is normal. Your hands will get greasy when you try to put it back on the sharp pokey handle, and you will want to wash them in the sink in the bathroom.

Do not do this.

It is clogged and gross all the time, as you will observe if you have eyes. Note the beige-to-grey color of the murky liquid – is it not beautiful? One day we hope to find primitive forms of algae or paramecia there. Scientists believe the water in my sink is the closest model we have to the ancient rivers of Mars. So enjoy that. There may or may not be Drano underneath the sink, depending on how long it has been since the last time we vainly attempted to fix it. Feel free to pour whatever you find down there into the water, it won’t make a difference in either direction. So just wash your hands in the bathtub. Sorry.

As you enter the Living Room, you will find two Actual Chairs, and maybe a stool or two. There are probably people in them. You can sit on the people if you’d like, or on the floor. But be careful if you’re sleeping on the floor tonight, because we used to have a bug problem and now you have to use the Batman blanket as a buffer between you and the carpet. The Dark Knight is a Silent Guardian, made of synthetic polymers and a tortured, nigh unrecognizable type of felt. Bugs do not like it. There are other blankets to make yourself cozy with.

But if you want to cozy up to the TV, be forewarned that you can’t watch any of the hundred or so awesome DVDs that you will find under the TV table, because the TV’s built-in DVD Player is Tired. All the time. We believe it may have Dengue. I spent several hours just the other day trying to get the new DVD player (found on the street[1]) to work, but it was very frustrating, what with the aspect ratio problems and lack of a working remote and me losing interest and deciding to eat two Oatmeal Cream Pies instead. You can watch the Glam Rock Tape, though. You may not, however, watch it less than twice in a row. This is a House Rule that I have no control over.

Inside the roundish table/cabinet thing in the corner you will find a variety of Video Game Consoles. These vary in vintage from 1985 to the Not-Too-Distant-Past. They are a lot of fun if you can get them up and running, but of course you must first detangle and decode the ratty mess of A/V connectors and controller cables that seem to expand and devour, kudzu-like, all they cover. The video games themselves are secreted in locations throughout the apartment, and a general rule of thumb is The Older or More Desirable the Game, the Longer You Will Have to Search. If you are at all concerned for the structural integrity of your skull, please do not attempt to find any of these games in my closet. Its topmost regions are incredibly perilous and virtually un-navigable without the aid of a Sherpa.

Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to mount a search for these games – or any other objects of any kind, actually – in either of the Girls’ Bedrooms. They are magnificent and mysterious creatures, my roommates, generally docile and pleasant in disposition, but fiercely territorial when startled. Also, there may or may not be dildos on the floor when you walk in. So once again, for your own safety and the safety of those around you, do not attempt entry into the bedrooms without Express Written Consent.

If you’re hungry at any point, it is best to just order something from China Delight. As long as that something doesn’t have chicken in it. But if you’re broke, which you must be if you’re at my house, go ahead and take a look in the fridge. After you unstrap the velcro thing on the bottom, that is. Remember to put it back the way you found it, or else the place will eventually smell slightly more like old eggs. In the event that this occurs, open a window and get some fresh air. The fire escape is difficult to open, though, and will be of no aid to you in an actual emergency, so I would recommend going up the steps in the hallway to the roof, which has quite a breathtaking view, especially at sunset.

In fact, the roof is really much nicer than the apartment. Maybe you should just hang out up there for a while. I think I’ll join you. Maybe we can sleep up there instead. I’m tired of this place.

You should follow Thought Catalog on Twitter here.

image – Simon Grubb