paganbabies

How I'm Livin'

I have been living in this apartment for around six months, but it would appear to any visitor that not only did I move in just yesterday, but also that none of my things had yet arrived. Excepting my roommate's quarters, the entire place has the look of a temporary shelter whose inhabitants don't plan to remain long. But I am ahead of myself. This is a tour, and the appropriate place to start is at the front door. So, if you'll join me, I'd like to guide you through the University Place Apartments building and my own particular niche therein, room 127. Along the way you will perhaps learn a thing or two, maybe laugh at this or that, but above all, you will come to realize how glad you are not to be a graduate student, and though you curse it daily, your real job will begin to seem less burdensome and more worth your while. Now, please, follow me.

As you turn off of University Avenue onto Matthews Street you'll have an opportunity to notice the distinctly 1960's architecture of the building. Built predominantly of an awful brown brick, the structure comprises two perpendicular wings, together containing something like 160 rooms. Note also the sort of crenelations they did on the top floor – distinctly hideous. Here's an aerial view to give you a sense of the layout. It's the building in the center. If you turn around, you'll be sure to notice the parking garage. Yes, it's half a city block in size and four, maybe five stories tall. This is to ensure that everyone living in the rooms facing west, like me, sees nothing but gray concrete and SUVs out their windows. If you look to the north, you'll see Paquin Tower, one of Columbia's tallest structures, and full of nothing but geriatrics and the disabled. The perk provided here is that when these people die, which they do almost daily, they do it at six a.m. and the screaming fire truck skids to a stop directly in front of my room. I don't know who the hot-rod is working for the fire department, but he or she always skids. ERRRR!! “Edna's dead.”

Turning our attention once again to University Place, it appears to us that the architect realized at the last moment that his building looked tremendously uninviting. To give the front entrance less of a storefront feel, he built up the ground in front of the building and created a ridiculous and unnecessary little set of stairs one must descend to reach the doors. One is supposed to feel more like he is entering a home. One actually feels annoyed. It isn't homey, it's just difficult to get into.

But now we're in. The lobby! an exciting place of comings and goings. Immediately to your left and right are large sectional couches formed in squares. These are for use by any tenant, I presume, at any time of day. To date, the only people I've seen use them are the friends of the people who staff the front desk, which you see ahead of you, and a christian prayer group that I've petitioned to have evicted. Ahead on your right is the computer lab. This lab boasts seven computers, all of which are used exclusively by people who do not live here. Behind that is the mail room. You see how it's so narrow that when two residents try to get their mail at the same time, they will have to awkwardly jostle with one another while avoiding the trash can and trying not to knock postings off the bulletin board.

The rest of the ground floor is occupied by office and commercial space visited by few people. But if we want to gain access to the residential portion of the building, we'll have to get through security. The front door is locked and requires a keycard. Not the convenient proximity keys but the I-have-to-put-down-whatever-I'm-carrying-and-dig-out-my-fucking- keycard-and-insert-it-just-right kind of keycards. Above us is a surveillance camera that is hooked into the building's cable. If you were to pick up that phone in front of you and dial 127 I could see you on channel 12 in my room, verify your identity and buzz you in. Actually no. I would have to pay for the phone service here to gain that ability, but you get the idea. And actually they got rid of the phone service here last month because no one used it. So you better have a keycard. The only way to circumvent this advanced system is to come between the hours of eight a.m. and five p.m. on a weekday, when it's unlocked. Or just wait around for about two minutes and any resident going in or out will gladly let you in because, I assure you, she hates that fucking door too.

Having gotten past security, we have on our left the two elevators that service the entire building. I've never used them, but they're always busy. Before we go up the stairs to the first floor however, I'd like to point out the vending machine area and the laundry room. The soda machines are indeed quite convenient when you need mixers for your booze. Always go for the cans over the bottles – at $0.60/can you get four more fluid ounces for $0.05 less than a bottle. For a drinker like me, this is hundreds of dollars a year. To the south is the laundry. Washing your clothes successfully requires a good deal of science and significant amount of luck. See, any of these machines can decide not to work correctly on a whim. It may not run a spin cycle leaving you with a soaking pile of laundry weighing one hundred pounds. Or it may not run the agitator, or drain fully. It changes every time. All of these problems you will face only if you first correctly configure the wash settings – DO NOT use the energy saver setting. Just don't.

A quick hop up the stairs and we're on my floor. Before we go down that hall to my room, however, let's jump to the second floor and see the weight/exercise facilities. As you'll notice immediately this room basically is part of the hallway. People will be walking through here quite regularly to stare at you should you decide to workout here. The equipment that works in here was purchased when the building was constructed. The newer stuff is all broken. Planned obsolescence, I suppose. Note the number of duct tape repairs. This building has a maintenance staff on duty during business hours five days a week. Trouble is that their conception of fixing things is like that of a lazy dad working on the basement bathroom that only he uses. It ain't gonna be pretty.

Ok, back downstairs and walk all the way to the northeast corner, room 127, and I'll meet you there in the next installment.

Click to Print This Page