onlyemma's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Part 1 London was a success. Kind of. It was successful in that i found a place to live. Though to be honest, it wasn�t the best weekend I�ve ever had and now I know why finding a house is one of the most stressful things you can do. I�d planned to see five houses. FIVE. I actually saw one and a half. It took me so long to get to the flat though because of weekend track-work, by the time I�d spent my second hour on the tube I was beginning to lose the will to live and was really hoping this place was The One. I must�ve visited just about every stop on the Northern line at least twice before I made it to Elstree and Borehamwood and I still ended up needing a lift. So by the time I�d had a look round and a cup of tea, the house owned by the scary sounding man in Kentish Town had been rented out and I�d missed the viewing at the prison in Islington with my friend Sophie. So that was Day One of House Search over. Day Two, and I cancelled viewing a 3 bedroom place because I couldn�t find the tube stop on the map, or the street name in the A-Z (conclusion: drugs den). And then Sophie cancelled another viewing because it wasn�t in the right area and we were a bit stuck. So we met up for a coffee and decided to ring an agent up on a whim and that was how we managed the �half� viewing. The landlord forgot the keys! We went all the way to High Barnet, got in a strange man�s car with two mysterious silent girls, got all the way to the crummy flat only to be told we�d have to peer through the net curtains and press our faces up against the letterbox. Then after exclaiming how nice the floor looked and �oh yes, I can just about see the bottom of the kitchen door there... do you have lino down?� we stood on the pavement and gazed around a bit. The so-called landlord t hen said, �the transport system is very good here... only 10 minutes to Borehamwood! The nearest bus stop is over there� he points, �so if you don�t mind... � and he gestures for us to get walking up the street. He made us get the bus home! What if we�d had no money? I told my mum about this when I got back and she got practically hysterical, saying, �your Dad and I are horrified... horrified, that you got into a car with a strange man!� What? It�s ok, he didn�t offer me sweets! I shouldn�t have told her so many of the details though, and I do very much regret not leaving out the part about the two miserable-looking girls in my re-telling of this story, as mum is now absolutely convinced that they were prostitutes and we�d in fact got into the car with a pimp. 6:33 p.m. - 2008-03-26 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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