Apartment Quest 3 (Final)

Eight days before we’re supposed to move in, we have no apartment.  The landlord said that not only had the broker never sent over any paperwork, the apartment had been rented two days before we signed the lease. The broker’s story shifted slightly depending on who I was talking to – either the paperwork was lost by the landlord, or the apartment had already been leased and they forgot to call me… basically, “blah blah blah.”

At this point, my wife finally won the argument that we weren’t getting anywhere with these guys and I asked for my money back. They did manage to fast-track my refund (they’re good with money – not so good with everything else…hmm) and just like magic – we were back to square one.

One problem – all of our stuff was in Chicago, and the lease on our house in North Carolina was set to run out in eight days. There would be no extension this time – the next tenants were ready to move in.

So, I called up Aunt Pat. “Hey – how’s it going with the house in Michigan City?” Once she figured out I wasn’t kidding, she and my Uncle John basically went over, pulled up the “For Sale” sign, and rolled out the red carpet.  It was amazing, and we are eternally grateful.

It was also very small. The house started out as a three car garage that was converted into a house for my grandmother after the big house the kids all grew up in burned to the ground in an electrical storm. Thankfully, our kids are, well, kids. They were sleeping in the living room in a tent, so to them, it was simply another great adventure. My wife and I were sleeping in an air mattress that would s-l-o-w-l-y sink to the floor every night after we fell asleep. It was like an old “I Love Lucy” episode. We’d go to bed on a nice, firm mattress and wake up on top of the equivalent of a deflated rubber chicken.

But I am here to tell you – Michigan City was awesome. The people were amazing, most of the shooters in the gun range inches behind the house didn’t start blasting away on weekends until the sun was mostly sort of up a little, and the Indiana beaches are legendary.  In all seriousness, the hospitality we received was beyond reproach.

And that’s just the strangers! The house is WELL off the beaten path, and I was a little nervous the first few times I left at 3am to head in to work. The first time, I left the house at 3am to catch the South Shore electric train from Michigan City into Chicago, then walked a couple of blocks to the L up to O’Hare, then connected through Charlotte and barely arrived to work in time, which cost me a lot of money. From then on, I figured if I was going to be up at 3am anyway, I might as well drive. After all, my personal “on-time performance” approaches 100%... the airlines – not so much.

In any case, when I arrived in Raleigh, I called the house and my wife was laughing so hard she almost couldn’t answer the phone. “Are you okay?” I breathlessly asked, waiting to see if she was hurt, or had been running from coyotes or something. She says, “Your aunt and uncle came over first thing this morning, brought lunch and some furniture, and we’ve been talking and laughing all day.”

Family I hadn’t seen since I was “knee-high to a grasshopper” dropped by every time I had to leave, taking my family out for lunch, telling old family stories, and making sure that the long-lost clan felt welcomed and at home. And let me tell you, we did.

I mentioned the hospitality and wonderfulness (is that a word?) of the random people we met: During one of the weekends my family spent on the beach at Beverly Shores (while I was slaving at work 800 miles away), my wife was discussing where to live with some ladies who had lived in Chicago for years. She mentioned that we had been looking in Rogers Park, but Evanston looked like it might be a little safer.

“Skokie!” one lady exclaimed, and the other bobbed her head in agreement. “THAT’S where you need to go. It’s safe, quiet, close to your school, and if you want to go to a public school, the schools there are great. “

“But does the L go to Skokie?” my wife asked, interested, but not thrilled with the thought of driving across the city twice a day to school.

“The Skokie Swift hits two locations, and it connects just a couple of stops from where you need to go. It’s perfect!”

“Perfect!” the other lady agreed, still bobbing her head.

So – we took a morning and pored over Craigslist, scanning for locations in Skokie. I was vaguely familiar with the area, and we found three places that really looked good. It turns out all three were managed by the same guy. His name was Marty (of course).

“Yello? Yeah – yeah – come on by anytime. A dog? No problem. I love dogs. Bring him to the showing – see if he likes da place too!”

So we come by, and within an hour, had located an apartment that not only was a 2 bedroom / 2 bath, the kids have their own space on the linoleum basement floor and we’re up on the first with a fully carpeted, beautiful  space for ourselves. All of the first floor footage is on top of the kids’ space (we’re a loud bunch and were worried about potential downstairs neighbors complaining about elephants up above) except our bedroom, which is over the entrance hallway to the building. Perfect.

Eighteen weeks later than we needed it, but perfect.

Oh – and it’s two blocks from the Skokie Swift.