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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson


The saga of How We Came To Have This Flat is a long and ultimately boring one, and one, if I was forced to recount it here and now, would drive me not only to tears, drink and homicidal rage but also a kind of catatonic state from which I may never emerge. Or emerge only to cry, drink and then kill everyone around me before lapsing back to dribbling and staring at the walls.
However, I will now, once and for all, categorically state that if it came down to a choice of garrotting an estate agent or garrotting a recruitment agent, I’d dismember the estate agent quicker than the recruitment agent would be able to get me to sit down for a typing test (and that’s mighty quick).

Estate agents, people: they lie. They lie, and then they lie, and after that they lie. The particular one that we dealt with told on average one lie every sentence he uttered in our general direction for the duration of the tedious time we had to deal with him. Not only that, but he didn’t return phone calls, he didn’t respond to emails, he didn’t keep appointments and he was never once in the office any time we had previously arranged to meet him there. His actions reduced me to a flying rage on Friday that He Who Only… bore the brunt of, and if he had decided not to move in with me on the basis of the four headed, fire breathing, building shaking monster that had replaced his girlfriend, well I wouldn’t have blamed him at all.

Nothing was done when it was supposed to be, the contents of the flat were exaggerated, as was the completion date for building. Hidden costs stayed hidden until the last moment, nothing was produced in the manner we had been led to believe, and on the day of moving in, nobody was prepared for each other. My name and He Who Only…’s previous address and current employer are all inaccurate on every from and contract.

On the plus side, the estate agent’s total inefficiency meant that there were no questions about my impending lack of employment, nothing mentioned about lack of references for either of us from previous landlords and not guarantor was demanded in the manner we were expecting. We were going to write a strongly worded letter of complaint, but on reflection, sitting staring out the window of our beautiful new flat across the wonderful view of the council estate, we decided to keep our happy gobs shut.

Home sweet home.

This entry was posted on 06 December 2005 at 10:47 am. 0 comments

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