#89 - boise part 2 - the place.

I couldn't get a hold of my park friend to get the address for the place he found me, so I was now in search for a computer so I could look if up for myself. With my faux tomtom, I arrived at the public library. Being the daughter of a librarian, I should know that there are never enough computers. True to form, there was a wait for the world wide web, so I got on the phone and tried to call out for assistance. Not knowing exactly what to search for, it wasn't going so well so I called information again to see if they had ideas for a computer I could use. Evidently they don't really do that sort of thing so I parked back downtown again to see what I could find. Deciding that record store people are cool and know everything, I went back into Record Exchange. "You're back! How's the hunting going?" I had missed my record store friends and felt better hanging out there. I told them about my new search and they told me I could use their computers all I wanted. I stood behind the desk and perused craigslist for something I remembered from Park Friend's blackberry. I found two or three that sounded good, plus the one he showed me. After calling head first, I headed out to tour the studios and one bedroom apartments. The first, we'll call it the Tiny Mean Neighbor Apartment, was farther out of town than I first thought and down this weird road. I asked a woman outside with her kid if I was in the right place and she was a little rude and snappy so I decided just to call the guy again to make sure I found it. Right place, it was just weird. He took me around to the side of his house to this little shed type place. One big room downstairs with a tiny kitchen and tiny bathroom, then a ladder going upstairs to a little crouchy room where the bed goes. The owners were very nice and a little awkward (guess they don't have many bitters from their posting). A little too weird, I left to check out the other places.

The phone number didn't work, but I knew the address so I just went over. A block from the heart of downtown, I was pretty excited. It was a house with 5 or so apartments inside. I opened the door to what could have been my death. It was one of those places that looked like someone could be actually dead inside and no one would know, or care. Despite the weird smelly old carpets and dark dark wood I knocked on the two downstairs doors to see if any one knew anything about the vacancy (aka - guy who was shot and hidden in the back). No response. I headed up the stairs to the apartment where I heard a TV on. On a quiet commercial break I knocked loudly and... nothing. Okay, so I didn't wait too long, but you wouldn't either! I was a little discouraged and slightly terrified, as far as the apartment hunting goes. The one I really liked and thought was perfect and safe was a little out of my price range. Trying to be more prepared for Monday, I have a hefty list of places to call and set up appointments for.