I reread the ad in my mind. I analyze each word and try to re-establish the context I had inferred from them. Without much to work with, I had assumed the least. What I had perceived as being the least possible. I was wrong. I reread the ad in my mind.
Studio with personality. $375 +util. Garbage included.
When I allow myself to open my eyes and behold the reality spread out before me, I try to remember what exactly I thought those words had meant. I envisioned raw brick and pipe and industrial insanity but in a tasteful way that did not make me question the likelihood of me being murdered, raped, dismembered, robbed, or any of those combinations if not all. I envisioned a livable if not spartan and minuscule empty space. I had not anticipated three flights of stairs. That is my fault for not asking more specific questions during my cold call to the owner. I also had not been prepared for all the terrible ways in which the word 'personality' could be interpreted. I hadn't imagined how very many things that word could be stretched over and used to hide. I thought I had a very firm grasp of the English language and would have previously considered myself quite adept at the various eloquent and elaborate uses.
I won't describe what I did see, but I will say it wasn't what I had conjured up with my excellent imagination while sitting and chain smoking from the safety of my fifth floor hotel suite. As I stand in the safety of nothing but my primal urge to scream and flee, a question comes to mind and since I can't help myself, don't know any better, and I'm curious...
"Who's personality am I looking at right now? Is this you, Jim? Is this what the inside of your head looks like?"
"Well... no. I'm not sure who's personality this is. That's why I took out the ad, to find out. To see if... maybe there is someone out there who has a personality that would... The rent is cheap, so I has hoping..."
"Ah. I see."
"So... it's not-"
"Not me. Nope."
"Well, ok."
No. Definitely not ok. Not even close.
Studio with personality. $375 +util. Garbage included.
When I allow myself to open my eyes and behold the reality spread out before me, I try to remember what exactly I thought those words had meant. I envisioned raw brick and pipe and industrial insanity but in a tasteful way that did not make me question the likelihood of me being murdered, raped, dismembered, robbed, or any of those combinations if not all. I envisioned a livable if not spartan and minuscule empty space. I had not anticipated three flights of stairs. That is my fault for not asking more specific questions during my cold call to the owner. I also had not been prepared for all the terrible ways in which the word 'personality' could be interpreted. I hadn't imagined how very many things that word could be stretched over and used to hide. I thought I had a very firm grasp of the English language and would have previously considered myself quite adept at the various eloquent and elaborate uses.
I won't describe what I did see, but I will say it wasn't what I had conjured up with my excellent imagination while sitting and chain smoking from the safety of my fifth floor hotel suite. As I stand in the safety of nothing but my primal urge to scream and flee, a question comes to mind and since I can't help myself, don't know any better, and I'm curious...
"Who's personality am I looking at right now? Is this you, Jim? Is this what the inside of your head looks like?"
"Well... no. I'm not sure who's personality this is. That's why I took out the ad, to find out. To see if... maybe there is someone out there who has a personality that would... The rent is cheap, so I has hoping..."
"Ah. I see."
"So... it's not-"
"Not me. Nope."
"Well, ok."
No. Definitely not ok. Not even close.
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