The apartment hunt is officially on.
As mentioned previously, I hate my roommate. So, instead of moping around and feeling sorry for myself (which, coincidentally, is what I did Monday and Sunday), I've decided to take matters into my own hands. You see, I'm not on the lease, so treating me like shit is a not a wise decision on his part. I should also pat myself on the back for a few of the [many] other kind gestures I've made that similarly make me wonder what his problem is: Hooking him up with my friends in the legal field when he mentioned wanting a job in that area, referring real estate clients to him knowing that he works on commission only, and maintaing an overall sunny disposition to which he returns home to daily. Not to mention, making sure there is always coffee and cream, buying the toilet paper twice in a row without mentioning that—"yo, it's your turn, jerk"—and taking out the recycling even though none of it is mine. Do I want a cookie? Maybe. At the very least, a scrap. Mainly because these are things that don't usually bug me, but might drive him to insanity if he were in my position. He's OCD. No joke.
I should have known early on in the game that Ken was going to be a problem roommate. His previous roommate mentioned—casually and on several different occassions—that Ken was moody. But, my apartment is killer, so I didn't want to hear it. None of it.
All of this brings me to my apartment hunt. I went to look at a studio last night a few blocks up from me. The landlord's asking $1,275/month, which is actually quite reasonable, but not something that I would currently pay. I told him to call me if he'll take $1,150 for it. After all, the view out the window is a McDonald's. I didn't even know that place still exhisted. Of course, I am one of the biggest food snobs you'll ever meet, so this isn't as odd as it sounds.
My friend Jewels and I are going to look at a 2 bedroom on the upper, upper westside that costs $1,250/month, i.e. $625 each. For that price, I'm not too concerned whether I like the place or not. I don't care if there are cops permanently trolling the block at night—you know, because of "recent incidents." And I don't care that the crappiest subway line in NYC is the only one that ventures my way. I'd be saving $500/month, which would be put toward trips to Brazil and the like. Not a bad trade off at all.
These and a few other 'maybes', are what I found after my first day of looking. When I returned to my building last night, my neighbor told me that Ken knows I'm looking to move out. Upon entering my apartment, and in a shocking turn of events, Ken was actually being pleasant. By pleasant I mean, greeting me upon walking in the door, speaking, and making jokes. Yes, yes, you might think that greeting your roommate and talking to your roommate are obligatory duties, but it has been 2 weeks since he and I last spoke. Evidently this is a talent he can turn on and off at will because once he heard that I might be leaving, he—ta da—is no longer a mute. Oh, and this morning he made coffee and put my favorite cup and a spoon out for me. He is really, really making a compelling effort here.
But, no—I can not fall for his momentary charms! He did this last time I threatened to move out and I fell for it. He's not going to change! I must remain strong. I can not take him back. I am too good for him. It's over!