So, although I would love to stay with my girlfriend in her one bedroom flat, I must of course act like a real adult and find my own place. First mistake, er, stop was Smith Street, and the ads at the Friends of the Earth cafe window. What looked like a promising batch of reasonably-priced options died in the arse as soon as I started meeting people. The first was Enso.
Now perhaps if I had of seen Enso's award-winning directing, starring and music score-writing debut first (Chewing Run) I might have been able to forsee the lingering smell of raw sausage in the house, my first taste of home-made-and-stored-in-a-gin-bottle strawberry 'cordial' and the tv set installation art glued onto the back shed...But alas, I was unprepared.
Completely unprepared for his crazy lines ("No, I am not Israeli! Everyone thinks that, especially when I am in the water."), his suspicious plant collection ("No flowers, and you didn't see that one!") and his strange ideas about swimming at the pool ("It's really dirty in the water. There is so much bacteria, I would never go in it."), despite his four-day old stench.
Strangely enough, I didn't turn down his humble abode immediately. I actually walked away considering the merits of the ridiculously cheap rent ($364 pcm) and the potential for some great writing material...but then I remembered that my life is crazy enough, without adding a spray-painted skull shower curtain into it.
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