With both hands on the steering wheel, Chad’s girlfriend smiled at him over her shoulder as he pulled his luggage out of the back of her convertible.
“See you at seven, babe!” She waved as she drove off.
Chad watched her with a big smile on his face.
He took the elevator up to the seventh floor, bags in hand, whistling and rocking on his heels. He was so excited that he had no trouble finding the apartment door in the dark (more bulbs in the hallway had burned out since the last time he was there two days ago).
“Here we go!” He inserted the key. Or, he tried to. It wouldn’t fit. He tried it in every direction and then stormed downstairs in a rage to the security desk.
“My key won’t fit! Did you give me the wrong one?”
The guard who resembled a blobfish slowly looked up from her magazine. “Come again?”
“The key. It won’t work!”
She put out her hand and took it. She compared it to the key log on her clipboard for a long time and then said, “This here’s the right key.”
“It doesn’t fit!”
She held it up in the light to read the fine etching on it, and compared it to the list. “1B. It’s the right key.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m in 7B. Not 1B.”
“Says you’re in 1B, Mr. Chad.”
“That’s not what you showed me!”
“You wanted 1B.”
“We were in 7B!”
She didn’t move except to blink slowly. “Lease says 1B.”
He pulled out his lease agreement and punched it with one finger. “See?! 7B.”
She looked closely. “Says 1B.”
He grabbed it back and looked at it. “No! It says—” His eyes bugged out. “No!—What the hell?!”
There was a smudge by the apartment number, making the 1 look like a 7.
“Lemme take you myself.”
She led him to 1B and unlocked the door with the key. Chad pushed her out of the way and then stopped.
“Oh my God!” he shouted holding both sides of his head. “I didn’t ask for this!”
The guard studied him with one eye, and then the other. “Then why’d you sign for it?”
He threw his arms down and spun around towards her. “Why the fuck would I sign a lease for 1B WHEN WE WERE STANDING IN 7B?!”
“Beats me. Wondered why myself.”
Chad slowly walked around. His feet squelched in certain areas of the green, lumpy carpet. Everything was green or had dark brown faux-wood accents. He kept groaning “Oh my God” under his breath at every new sight he encountered.
Inside the refrigerator, a race war between white and black mold was raging.
And there was no room for his gym equipment.
What was also different about this place, besides everything else, was that there were two bedrooms, each of which had two rusty futons with busted springs and crusty stained yellow mattresses.
He moved on to look at the one bathroom. Chad had never seen a carpeted bathroom before. He lifted his arm to flex his bicep in the mirror, but it was too cracked to get a good look and he let his arm droop. Mildewed paper peeled and curled on the walls, and a little mushroom grew out of a crack in the ceiling.
The guard looked over his shoulder. “Your roommate’ll be coming soon.”
“Roommate?” He grabbed her by her sloped shoulders. “What do you mean, roommate?”
Each wide-set eye considered him independently. “Your roommate.”
Who the Hell Knows? 
What a nightmare you have created for this young man. Very twilight zone vibe.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh well for him!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
All downhill for Chad the Chump.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ruh Roh Scoobie! I had that exact same experience with a hotel in Korea near the DMZ. I should add that to my ongoing memoir in traumatizing detail. It’s funny now. At the time, I was a lot like Chad. This had a lot of good dialog with the extra entertaining blobfish guard. I think I may have already met the soon to be roommate earlier. The suspense is building and I’m glad you are posting each day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m sure you could that hotel justice far better than I could 🤣
LikeLiked by 1 person
LOL! It shocked me at the time but now it’s hilarious when I look back. I could read and write Korean and one of my team members wanted to know why the other side of the hotel look so much better. Next to my room at the end of the hall was a glass door and on the other side it was obviously high class while we were on the Demon’s Den side. There was a large sign in Korean and I read it and interpreted it to them. There were two words I didn’t recognize. It was Spor tusa Mah sah gee. Then it dawned on me that many modern Korean words are phonetic spelling of English words. It was Sports Massage, which was code for erotic massage with happy endings. The boys eagerly checked the rates and sadly it was $100 and hour, much more than their government allotment for hotel costs. We stayed in the Devils Den with a dance bar below us open until 3 am, a bordello of sorts next door, and my room was obviously recently vacated by a couple in love where viagra was probably being abused judging from the condition of the sheets. I sprayed the room with Lysol, stripped the bed, put the shower curtain over the mattress, and slept in my bug proof bivy sack. The next morning we checked out and got rooms on the military base. There were other issues, I don’t think would be appropriate to traumatize you with, but I realized that muddy foxholes weren’t the worst place a person could end up.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, that is so gross! I don’t travel much but when I do, I bring my own sheets and cover over the bed and just sleep that way. People laugh at me but I don’t care, at least I know where my sheets have been! I would sooo improvise with that shower curtain myself (after of course I inspected every last square inch of it).
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was traumatized for years. Now, if I travel, I am very careful, especially in bathrooms. I don’t skimp on the shower shoes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, I love this twist. This could so happen 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
A bait and switch, I guess
LikeLiked by 1 person
Much like the God from the Hellsing Abridged, I saw that coming. But unlike that God, I look forward to it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Half the joke is seeing it coming.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think I used to live in that building!
Can’t wait for the next installment. Can it get worse?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I hope it does.
LikeLike
I liked the “crusty yellow mattresses” touch. It reminds me of the Hilton on a bad day. A REALLY bad day. The union must have taken a sick leave day.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I figure you’ve seen a place or two like that in your day.
LikeLike
This is so horrifying and hilarious! (Though mostly horrifying when you think of how easily this could happen.)
Also, “Inside the refrigerator, a race war between white and black mold was raging.” is an amazing bit of description.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I saw that in a long-forgotten container of Chinese food leftovers…. Guys’ apartments are not jokes! Wait, that was actually mine in his fridge…
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s such a perfect bit of description. I am glad you held on to this disgusting memory of your forgotten leftovers in a guy’s fridge in order to add to this scene.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So many disgusting memories..
LikeLiked by 1 person