Hello all from beautiful Federal Way Washington,
Last week I stood at the Southernmost point of the continental U.S. in Key West and now I am all the way up on the West Coast visiting my other set of Grandparents and Aunt Melanie. It is actually kind of chilly here tonight, which I am totally loving after Mildred the Mazda aka my car informed me that it was 106 degrees outside in Jacksonville the other day. You know you live in Florida when your legs stick to your cloth seats like they would leather. You know you live in Florida when you buy Baby Lips chapstick multiple times a month because if you leave yours in the car for 2.5 minutes, it has melted like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz.
Enough of the crappy "You know you are in Florida when..." sayings though. I want to go back to a time three summers ago on a hot day, like the other day in my car, when Cassie and I moved into the notorious apartment 13311 in Tallahassee to begin the college chapter of our lives. It was just 2 weeks ago that I put my electronic key into the garnet painted door to lock it for the last time and bid 13311 a bittersweet goodbye. I must say, I got progressively sadder as Cassie and I painted the cheetah print walls that Taytum's Mom and Nana had so craftily painted back to the industrial white over this past summer to get it move in ready for the next pack of roommates. It was like we were painting over memories and stories that the walls would tell if only they could talk. At this moment, I am glad walls aren't able to tattle on the things they have been privy to since we started living there. The tales range from amazing to crazy to good to ugly to sexy to you-better-not-tell-anyone-or-I'll-hacksaw-you-in-half to best moments of my life.
Cassie and I had just gotten through our last day of orientation when my Nanny and Momma Ruby (Cassie's mom) decided to inform us that the apartment we had picked out online was not adequate for our taste in real life and that they had canceled the lease. How that happened I have no idea. Most places won't let you do it without some epic legal battle. I suppose Momma Ruby worked her wicked black magic. Seriously, I have never met someone who can pull strings and do whatever she wants like Ruby does. Also, she wins everything. Any kind of raffle, radio show give away, pick the lucky duck in the pond, etc. If it can be won, Ruby will win it. She won the same radio contest twice before. She's definitely a wizard.
Well, the dilemma then came, where were we to live? We only had a few weeks to find a place and most places were filling up or full. We should have known that they had already conspired and fixed this problem for us. We drove to a place called Boardwalk at Appleyard apartments. Upon pulling up we could tell it was nice. We were met upon arrival by a tan skinned man with slicked back black hair. He had a Rico Suave vibe about him with a slick voice to match. He led us into the model apartment and we instantly fell in love. It was spacious, pretty, the rooms had queen beds and we would each have a bathroom to ourselves. I distinctly remember trying to find something wrong with the place and I made the comment, "the bathrooms are small," but there was a little voice inside me saying where do we sign up?
Nanny and Ruby had already taken care of that too. We were already signed up and just needed to put our John Hancock on a few papers.
A few weeks latter, laden down with boxes, bedspreads and baseball bats (my boyfriend at the time gave me one to "protect myself" with), we pulled around to the apartment we were supposed to move into. Rico Suave aka Francis told us we would be moving into a newly cleaned all ready to go apartment. With the little buzzing sound the electronic key made and a swing of a door, we knew all too well that the apartment hadn't been cleaned in months, if ever. There was stuff everywhere and a family of roaches had made Gaylord Resort out of this apartment. They were everywhere! If Nanny had been about to faint because of the stains on the runner boards, she was practically on the floor from the roaches. Ruby stormed up to the front and demanded we be moved immediately. The poor soul up at the front desk apologized frantically saying there had been a mistake and handed us a new set of keys to apartment 13311. It was all the way in the back, but I saw the silver lining. At least it wasn't next to the creepy woods. Cassie liked the fact that the bus stop was right outside our door as well so things were looking up.
We thought, second time must be a charm. With a silent prayer I slid my key into the spaceage lock and opened the door to find something more peculiar than the roaches and a dirty apartment.
From our post in the door frame, we could see a large, dark figure on the couch. And it was breathing! Well snoring actually. You see, we had interrupted the sleep of a very large black man. He was about as big as Hagrid from Harry Potter and was as startled to see us as we were to see him in lounging form. His name has slipped my mind now, but he was a security guard for Boardwalk and he had been living there. He moved rapidly around the apartment grabbing Gatorade bottles and clothes while apologizing frantically. Stunned and shocked, we proceeded to move in after he left swiftly out the door.
Now, with moving into a new place that other people have lived in before, I knew we would probably hit a few snags with whatever problems they had left behind. My bed was one of them. I am not sure what was done on this bed to make it feel and sound the way it did, but it sounded like it had been put in a very large washing machine on the deep wash cycle. It was probably just an old mattress that needed to be replaced. Every time I simply turned over in the bed, it sounded like I was making a dirty movie with how much it squeaked and squealed. My next door neighbors probably thought I was either a slut or just very very lucky.
My very favorite malady this apartment brought with it was the refrigerator. My Nanny, Mom, and Momma Ruby had all went to Sam's to stock Cassie and I up on Ramen Noodles, Eggo Waffles, and all sorts of other college cuisine type foods. They spent a lot of money on bulk freezer items to last us for a while. One night upon coming home starving for some salad with grilled chicken on top, I called Cassie to see if she wanted me to make enough for her. Of course she did, girl can barely boil water without burning the house down. I was chatting with her on the phone to help pass the time until she got there. I proceeded to grab the chicken breast out of the freezer so I could put it on our little grill when something made me swear and scream. Something very warm and wet hit my feet.
For about two seconds, I had no idea what was going on. I had a moment of terror thinking that my water had just broken like I was pregnant or something. Cassie and I went through an obsessive phase with a show called "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant" and there were all sorts of horrific recounts of women who had no idea they were pregnant and randomly had babies on boats and in toilets. After a moment of rational, I figured out that the semi thick pale pink liquid was from the bag of chicken I had just pulled from the freezer. I was confused. How on earth could it have been all watery if it was in the freezer? I pulled the freezer door back open only to realize that it was obviously broken. There was water all in the freezer from everything melting. My favorite was a tub of strawberry ice cream that had gotten frothy from the heat and foamed up out of the carton to fill the freezer with a pink, sticky, foamy mess. It looked like Barbie threw up in there! I was literally gagging as I mopped up the goopy chicken disgustingness off my feet and off my floor. Needless to say, we ate out that night and I had completely lost my appetite for grilled chicken salad.
As I am writing this blog, I have decided to do a segment called "The Dirtay Threes." It will be all about the misadventures in apartment 13311 with all the roommates I came to love or leave behind in life. Get ready y'all, it is going to be a fun ride in the Dirtay Three posts.
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