Friday, September 25, 2015

Apartments and the Granny House

Nine 'til noon I spent dealing with office stuff--just reading, filing, discarding, and so on. Wrote a note to my dear nephew, Wes, the only attorney in our far flung-family, and sent him old legal documents I had had in the archives. After lunch, went off to the P.O. to mail it and swung around on Telegraph Road to revisit Ventura del sol.
Here a very nice woman--Patti--greeted me and I asked to see a one-bedroom (all the two-bedrooms are upstairs and down and that's out for me). She showed me one recently renovated that going to be occupied next week. (Incidentally, the one- and two-bedrooms are situated on opposite sides of a center grass area.)
I would kill for the place. Although having only one bedroom and one bath, it's laid out nicely and has less of a "chopped up" look than my present apartment. For instance, my bedroom has only one wall free of either doors or windows. In addition, almost an entire wall is filled with a sliding glass door. Since there's one in the living room, too, do I really need that? At Vds, the bedroom window is a nice large side, but it's a window, not a door, and I could easily fit my desk or bureau under it.
Kitchen is good--galley type, of course--with the usual. A negative is the electric stove, but I can live with that.
Speaking of electricity, that's the only appliance for which Vds charges tenants; Colony Parc charges for water and sewer, in addition to a small monthly charge for--get this--the "service provider" that prepares the monthly statements. These charges came to $54.31 last month--that's in addition, of course, to the stated rent. Talk about highway robbery!
Went over to take a look at Armada Apartments, also. However, it's across a busy highway from the mall and I didn't think the neighborhood looked very nice, either. Scratch them, I guess. I had seen a "granny house"--odious expression--advertised and called the number provided, although the rent seemed suspiciously low.
No wonder: A man answered and when I asked where the house was located, he said it was between Ventura and Santa Paula. I know that's farm land and asked if it was out in the country. Yes, it's on a ranch, he said, and you would take the Freeway to the so-and-so exit, drive out to whatsit street, turn left at wherever, then "call me and I'll come out in my car and guide you the rest of the way."
WHAT?! Now you can be sure the basis for a horror story grew hair and teeth in my mind as I thanked him and said it was probably not for me. I can see it now: Ellen to Greg: "Gee, I wonder where Mom is. I've been calling her on both phones and there's no answer." Greg: "Let's ask the manager to let us into her apartment." They find a clipping for the granny house and call the number. Man says, "Why no, your mother was supposed to meet me, but never got here...heh, heh, heh...."

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