My divorce came out of the blue. One day, everything was fine. The next, my wife of three years told me that she was leaving me. It was mostly amicable, but the way these things go, the paperwork and the lawyers tied everything up for months. At the end of the whole ordeal, I was thousands of dollars poorer, my stuff (or what was left of it) was in storage, and I needed a place to live. My ex sold the condo where we had lived together and moved out of state. I had to be gone by the end of the month. That chapter of my life was officially closed.
I started looking for apartments on Craigslist. My thought was that I would find an apartment to live in for six months or so until I got back on my feet and started to figure some things out, like whether or not I wanted to stay in Los Angeles, or move somewhere more affordable. Money was definitely tight, so I felt like finding a roommate was going to be the best possible scenario for me. Nothing is more depressing than looking for a shared apartment on Craigslist. The cost is high, the locations are bad, the units are gross. I was getting pretty discouraged. But still, I kept at it. One day, I was putting in my usual half hour of searching when a promising listing popped up:
"Seeking roommate to share spacious two-bedroom/1 bathroom apartment in West Hollywood. Quiet building, onsite parking and in-unit washer/dryer. Utilities included. Walking distance to local bars/clubs. Your share is $2,000 per month. If interested, email me back."
I browsed through the pictures. It definitely looked like a spacious, light filled apartment. All of the rooms were painted white, and from what I could tell, the furniture was tasteful and high-quality.
Finding an apartment with in-unit laundry is hard as hell. Before my ex and I lived in our condo, I had always had to carry my laundry to a shared laundry room and make sure that I had enough quarters to get a load finished. I was pretty pessimistic. A unit like this probably had dozens of inquiries on it already, but I decided to email about it anyway on the off chance that for once, I'd get lucky. I wrote back an email, hoping that mentioning my recent divorce might win me some sympathy points:
"Hi, I'm a recently-single 38 year old guy looking for a roommate situation. I'm quiet and neat and always pay my rent on time. I work pretty close to West Hollywood on the west side, so this would be a great commute for me. I just need a place to get back on my feet given my recent divorce."
I hit send on the email, and went about my day. I did not expect to hear anything back. Given the price, location and in-unit laundry, someone else probably snagged it already.
Later that day, I came back to my practically empty condo and checked my email. To my surprise, there was a reply from the Craigslist ad:
"Hi! I'm Marc. Congratulations on being the first to reply to my ad. After you emailed, there were 7 others, but since you were first, I thought it was only fair to offer it to you, provided of course that we both think we'd be a good fit as roommates. Would you like to figure out a time to meet in person and for you to see the apartment?" Looking forward to hearing from you!"
I couldn't believe my luck. I wrote back immediately:
"Hi Marc, nice to meet you over email. I'd love to schedule a time to come see the unit. As I mentioned, I am recently divorced, and need to be out of my condo by this week, so there's some definite urgency on my end. I can stop by anytime tomorrow, if that works for you. Text me at 555-713-2341 and we can figure out a time. Looking forward to it! -Nick"
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with a text from Marc saying to come over the next day at 1:30. I replied back that I would see him then. I pumped my fist. Finally, after so many months of unrelenting bad news and bullshit, I finally had a small victory.
The next day at 1:00, I hopped in the car and headed over to West Hollywood to meet Marc and check out the apartment. It took about 15 minutes to get there. The building was located on a quiet street, with nice shady trees. I parked the car and texted Marc that I was there. He said to ring the bell at the front and he would buzz me in to come up to unit 201.
The building was a nicely-maintained art-deco style building that looked like it was from the 30s or the 40s. It appeared that there were about 8 units total. I got to the front door, and rang the bell. The door buzzed and I opened it. The lobby was spare, but clean. There was a staircase up to the second floor leading to a hallway. I headed up the stairs and found unit 201. I knocked on the door.
A moment later, the door opened and Marc reached out and offered a firm handshake. Marc appeared to be similar in age to myself, late 30s, and seemed to be in decent shape. He was barefoot and wore a fitted white t-shirt and athletic shorts.
"You must be Nick! Nice to meet you, man. Welcome! Come in, but just take off your shoes if you would. I find that it helps keep the dirt from the outside to a minimum."
"Hi Marc. Nice to meet you in person. I gotta say, I am glad to have found this place. The past few months have been rough, so I really needed a win."
"Totally understandable. I actually got out of a relationship a few months ago myself, so I can definitely understand what you're going through."
I took in the scene. The entire unit appeared to have hardwood floors. The walls were all painted a stark white, and there was relatively little in the way of decoration. There was an open kitchen to my right, and a dining area to the left. The ceilings were high, and the whole place had an airy, light feeling. There was a large sectional sofa in the middle of the main room, and a large TV was mounted above the fireplace. The fireplace itself was filled with large candles. Overall, it was a tidy, well-designed and furnished apartment.
"Let me take you on a quick tour." Marc said. "As you can see, this is the main room. Sofa, TV, kitchen and dining room all in an open floor plan. As you can see, I don't have much in the way of furnishings, but I imagine you might have some stuff you'd bring to the equation."
"Yeah, I have a few things, but honestly, lots of my furniture belonged to my ex, so she took most of it."
"Down the hall this way are the bedrooms and the bathroom. I've been using the second bedroom - your room - as a home gym. Here it is."
The bedroom - my room - was painted in the same stark white style as the rest of the apartment. In the corner was a bench with some dumbbells of various weights lined up on the floor. There was a yoga mat rolled up leaning against the wall.
"Ever since the beginning of the pandemic, I've been working out at home. Not sure when I'll be ready to go back to the gym." Marc said. "Obviously, I'll clear this shit out of here when you move in. Moving on, this is the bathroom."
The bathroom connected via a doorway to my bedroom, with a separate doorway on the other side, which I presumed connected to Marc's room. In keeping with the rest of the place, it was tidy and well kept. There was a scented candle on the countertop, but it certainly seemed like Marc kept a pretty neat house.
Marc walked ahead and opened the other bathroom door. "This is my bedroom," he said. Marc's bedroom appeared to be a little bit bigger than mine, and was furnished in the same spare style. There was a bed on one wall, covered in a white duvet and some throw pillows. There was a small desk in the corner by the window, and a TV against the opposite wall. The only other decorations were some tasteful black and white photos of muscular male torsos.
Marc didn't really give off a "gay vibe" or anything like that, but given the location of the apartment in West Hollywood, the neat housekeeping, and the tasteful male photography, I could put two and two together. It didn't bother me, honestly. He seemed like a nice, responsible guy, and I was just happy to have found an apartment in my price range with a short commute to my office.
"Down the hall on the left is the washer/dryer," Marc said. "It's really rare to have in-unit laundry, which is one thing I love about this place."
"Definitely. I'll never have to worry about running out of quarters again," I said.
"Well, that's pretty much the full tour. Would you like to have a beer and go over the details?"
We went back to the dining room and Marc grabbed two beers from the fridge. We sat at the little dining table and Marc cracked open our beers.
"Nick, you seem like a pretty personable guy with neat habits. I'd be happy to have you be my roommate. Like I mentioned in the ad, your share would be two thousand a month. There's tandem parking, but I work from home, so I'm happy to let you have the outside spot. I keep pretty regular hours. I'm not a big partier, but as you know, it's only a short walk to the bars and clubs."
"Yeah, definitely. I'm not a big partier either. To be honest, I haven't gone out since before my divorce. Maybe I'll get out of my shell a little bit now that I'm single again."
"One other thing I should mention, in the interest of full disclosure. I hope it's not a problem for you, but I'm gay."
"Marc, no problem on that front at all. I've had plenty of gay friends. So don't worry about it at all."
"Well, in that case then, let's call it a deal. Feel free to move in whenever it is convenient for you. Didn't you say that you needed to be out of your ex's condo this week?"
"Yeah. To be honest, I'm all packed up. Most of my shit is in storage. I can start moving in tomorrow."
"Great!" Marc said. He pulled out a spare set of keys with a garage door opener and slid them across the table. "Nice to have you aboard, roomie!"
Chapter 2:
The next day I picked up a U-Haul and drove to my storage unit. I spent most of the morning loading up the truck. Given that most of the furniture had gone to my ex, I was able to fit everything into the truck in one load. I cleaned out the last of the shit from the storage unit and settled my bill at the front office. At the very least, I wouldn't have to be paying for Public Storage every month anymore.
Once I'd loaded the last of my stuff, I closed the tailgate on the truck and headed off to my new apartment in West Hollywood. I was pretty happy to finally have a solid living situation, and to be putting the painful last six month behind me.
I parked the truck in front of the new apartment and opened up the trailer. Hopefully it wouldn't take too long to get this stuff out. All I really had were some boxes of books and papers, a desk that I planned to set up in my bedroom, a mattress and a box spring, and a few other odds and ends. I didn't have much else in the way of furniture or anything like that. I started off hauling the boxes of books into the lobby and up the stairs, leaving everything right inside the door to unit 201.
I was about halfway through moving all of the stuff when Marc got home. He dropped a stack of papers onto the table by the entrance and started helping move stuff without me even asking him. Together, we got the last of my boxes of random shit moved and then we moved the mattress and the box spring. We set up the mattress and box spring in the middle of my room. I could worry about getting a proper bed frame later on. The room was a mess of boxes strewn all over the place, the desk in the corner, and the naked boxspring and mattress in the middle of the room. I was spent after spending all day moving stuff.
