Flat Nr 1, Part 2: a Room for Bed and Slippers

A tall, tanned woman comes to me and apologizes for being late. Her body language and looks distract me so much that I do not even care that I had been standing in this potentially crime scene for almost an hour.

The woman leads the way through long corridors. She makes a small talk and asks if I had been on holiday, because I have a good tan. This reminds me of my recent failure, where I asked exactly the same question and the answer I got was nothing of what I expected: ‘’No, my mum is black’. My effort to make a small talk then ended very quickly. I giggle inside.

We enter the flat. 4 bedrooms, a kitchen, a bathroom. Pretty standard. She shows me the room to let. The door barely opens because of the bed. It is literally a BED ROOM. Room for bed (and slippers, maybe). Nothing more though. Bedandslippersroom.

Lady never stops talking. I learn that she lives at another property that belongs to the same landlord and he asked her to show this flat around. They must be really good friends, I thought. The flat is so good, very cheap for such area. I would never find anything like that for the price they are asking. Kitchen is massive, no, there is no table, but you can eat on a kitchen counter, or on your bed in the bed(andslippers)room. She has been living in London for a while and she knows how everything works, so I better believe her when she says that this is a great deal. Guess what… I do start to believe her. She must be right – what do I know? I start quietly panicking in my mind. What if this is the best, I can get for the price? What if I will never find anything like this again and everything will be worse and even more expensive? She seems like she knows what she is talking about!

How much time do I have to decide? About two minutes, she says.

I tell her that I have another viewing the same day (which was true) and give my email address to send the contract details. If I decide to take this room, I will phone her and then, if the room is still available, I will sign the contract and pay the agency fee of £200. (Did not occur to ask why I would have to pay the agency fee, if she is not an agent, but just someone who lives at another property. What an odd relationship between landlords and their agents)

I leave the property exhausted. I believe everything the woman said – she looks so nice, friendly and confident. I almost want to be friends with her. I have no more energy for anything – I cancel my next viewing and go to my temporary home.

On my way back, I intensively think of what to do. What if this room the size of box of matches, is the best one I will find?

Luckily, I get the best tip to my main concern:  “if you found this one, you will find another one that is the same.”

I calm down and keep looking.