V
The American disappeared. Paid the rent disappeared, the bastard. His room was empty now for two weeks and certainly it would have been. No idea on how to track it down. I did not have receipts showing that the payment or anything. In other words I had been cheated. Fuck! When I take a rip me is always in great remorse. I do not know, the fact that I must be the bad guy, he does evil things, on the contrary, I realize I'm a rookie compared to what you are capable of inventing, the dexterity of the bastards who fuck you mean.
I had cheated the son of a bitch, and what not So went down. Sciala my four hundred offering money to drink, or if they had smoked in a shitty coffee shops, or fotterseli with whores. Here's how I imagined the American. In an access of rage I decided to play hard too, and some gonzo subaffitare the apartment. But I gave up. What was the trigger a chain of dishonesty? The city had had enough. And me too.
walked up and down the small apartment eating the carpeting and biting my nails to dispose of the anger. I softened a kick in a cabinet, pulled down in a chair and let the taps run for hours. Who was doing wrong then, I did not.
I was tormented. Who owned the apartment I lived? And who else had the keys? At any moment the true owner could have me out of the house. And if in the middle of the night someone had stabbed me in my sleep? Jesus, I could not go on like that! It was to go mad. Then, as soon as I climbed to the call center, walked with his head down a new search on the Internet, starting the ballet of the visits through the city: apartments without access, others with the sloping floor, others without heating, no windows and so on.
I was lucky this time. The easy thing was resolved.
The apartment was in the Red Light District, on the Oudezijds Voorburgwal. The estate agent was in the company of another guy, who is also concerned. Upon entering the house I realized that this was what I wanted. The ceiling of the hall was at least six feet high, with a central chandelier as those of the nobility. The apartment has one large bedroom and a toilet in Amsterdam that I had never met. In the sense. In Amsterdam, the process is not something to be proud of. They have the cup in one place and another in the shower, so to speak, a bidet and will not speak. Often I've had shit stuck to the wall with your knees. This was a process instead of principles. And I fell in love. I say the house and even the toilet.
The thing that persuaded me was the ceiling. I have always believed that thoughts are energy waves that spread in the air, and for that they need space to take off. The low ceilings do not provide enough way out and sent back flooded the thinker. Who has the good fortune to live in the countryside or in apartments with high ceilings, where thoughts have the opportunity to spread and go where they please, live happily ...
The agent shook returned to land, and said
- The rent is a thousand money per month, including electricity, water and gas. You pay one month in advance and one month of commission for the agency. I forgot, once a week is the cleaning lady.
- I'll take it! - I cried.
That was my home. Decided. The agent Parlotti with the type. The type refused. It seems that a bedroom is not enough for that price. Agent shook hands and said
- I'll leave a deposit of two hundred soldiers. You'll get the rest next week. Delete your ad. The house is taken.
accepted.
I followed a strategy adopted. I visited dozens of apartments and at that price a house like that was a miracle to Amsterdam. Find someone willing to pay a "certain number" for rent was a matter of a week or less. The mezzanine was clear. I bought a cheap bed from Ikea and I had my room. That's it! For certain things come from Naples is an advantage. The next day on
I posted an Internet ad: Loft for rent in the Red Light district, 120sqm, hardwood floors, washer, dryer, cleaning woman on Friday, seven money including electricity, light, and gas. Call only if really interested.
In the following days I was bombarded with emails. Professionals more than anything else. People that wheat had to spend and if they cared little. He wanted to live in a loft on the red light district, paid attention to this.
A girl was given the most. It was called Shina, was a Scot. When I showed the house was love at first sight for her.
- It's a show! For seven hundred is a bargain. And the chandelier, then, divine!
- Yeah, and watch it light. - I said, turning on the light.
- I like it. I'll take it! - And we shook hands like two old friends. The next day
Shina paid its part. I just have not put the rest and deliver to the agent. The ball good, it was clear, now I had it myself.
