Come one! Come all! To the New York Circus! See the amazing "Angelo" in all of his glory! Welcome:
Angelo could not have been more sitcom typical of a landlord. Now, realtors also call landlords "superintendents" shortened as "supers". Let me give this to you straight: super would be the last word I would use to describe Angelo. In all of the other apartments we visited, the "super" was not there at the time. Well, we came to this apartment, and who did we meet? Angelo. He was in the kitchen complaining in an Italian accent about the previous tenant and how he/she left the place a mess.
Now, from that, you have already gathered that Angelo was Italian; if you didn't already gather it from the name, then you may need to be a little more perceptive to survive this world... anywho! He was an Italian man of impressive girth. Now, if you do happen to be "girthful", no big deal (Ha! A pun!), but please, for the love of all retinas, don't share it with the world by wearing a deliciously hugging white tank top. my. eyes. are. still. burning.
Let's discuss how Italians usually have a significant amount of body hair, especially as they get older. Wait, no... let's not discuss that because it's NAAAAASTY!!!! Well, Angelo... he... to put it nicely... he was not in need of body Rogaine. Hey, I have a joke: what do you get when you have a fat, hairy, Italian man working inside a hot apartment? A sweaty, fat, hairy Italian man! You don't think it's funny? None of us did either.
So now that we have discussed in excruciating detail this scrumptious hunk of man, I will now briefly describe his scrumptious apartment. It was a duplexy kind of place- except that there would be three tenants sharing (three floors). The apartment was awkward in that it had random small rooms that didn't make much sense, but, oh me oh my, the winning feature of the house was by far the bathroom. If you didn't go blind from looking at Angelo, you sure as anything had another chance with this bathroom. In short, it was... blue. Blue highlights? An attractive blue? Why don't you guess the answers to these questions? I have a hint... the answers are the same and both rhyme with "go". You know it is bad when a bathroom reminds you of the inside of a giant Tupperware container. Oh yeah. It was gouge-your-eyes-out-tastical.
So... we signed the lease.
Okay folks, move on! Move on to the next exhibit! Come all to see "Weird Naked Hoarder Man" in all his glory- and we DO mean all his glory! Tickets, please:
One word: yum. The very first apartment we viewed with Lori was a duplex. She knew it was supposed to be unlocked, so we walked up the stairs, and she opened the door to find... holy junkamoly. Literally... junkamoly. There was junk, dirt, grime, etc. all over the place! PILES! We could barely walk into the place at all. One of the rooms was blocked off by a sheet (but you could see enough into the room to tell that it was filled to the brim with junk as well). We couldn't walk into the kitchen; I honestly don't know how one could even get food from his kitchen! The place was overall, disgusting, and that is not exaggerating.
The first reaction from all of us, including the realtor, was "Oh my gosh!" Lori called out "Hello?" a few times to see if anyone was there. I mean, we figured that someone was still living there, despite the unlivable conditions. No one answered, but we heard some noises... oh well. We proceeded to verbally trash the place because it was disgusting.
Lori hesitated and sheepishly ensured us that the place would be totally cleaned out before we would ever move in. (Yes, preposition... cease the judging!!!!) As she was "ensuring" us, she was interrupted. Interrupted by... none other than the second star of this circus! We heard a confused and perturbed "Hello?" followed by a (from what I could see- the rest was hidden by the piles of junk) naked man popping his body out of a door and telling Lori that she was in the wrong place and needed to go downstairs. thank. goodness.
Needless to say, we were all extremely relieved! The man in question was clearly a hoarder. Like... a hoarder in need of psychological assistance. It was unbelievable. It was like one of those houses that you see in those shows where the people stage an intervention! This is not a hyperbole, I promise! There were other witnesses besides me- ask!!! Now, about the "nude" factor... he was topless (it seemed like he had recently been in the shower), but he could have been wearing a towel for all I know. However, I didn't see his bottom half due to the large piles of useless junk. Thank you large piles of useless junk.
All righty, ladies and gentlemen! Show's over! Thank you for visiting the New York Circus! I hope you enjoyed the show! Please leave a comment!
(Btw, I realized mid-writing that we had actually seen hoarder man first, but I left it in the order it was already falling into because I can. And because I'm lazy. kbye!)