Hey! Great to meet you! I’m so glad you’re interested in taking the spare bedroom. Crete has gotten super gentrified in the last 3,000 years, so as you can probably guess rent is through the roof. Knossos used to be full of philosophers, oracles, mathematicians. But they’ve been driven out. Now all we have is an Ethiopian-Mexican fusion restaurant and coffee served from watering cans.
Sorry about all the putrescent corpses in here. I’m on this stupid Atkins diet at the moment. Every nine years I get sent seven Athenian maidens and seven Athenian youths from HelloFresh.
But enough about that! Just kick those shinbones to the side and I’ll show you around!
It’s pretty chill here. Just one thing, you don’t wear a lot of red, do you? Like tees, sweaters, MAGA hats? I’m actually apolitical. It’s just the color red waving around makes me kinda anxious. I’d hate to charge at your Rolling Stones tee and then have it all awkward in the communal areas. I want us to be buds!
So a few quick tidbits about where things are. From here your room is left, left, right, right, left, right, left, right. The bathroom? Man, I always forget this one. It’s right, left, left, left, right, left, right, right. Living room, you just take a left, right, left, left, right, left, right, and then seven more lefts, four more rights and a left. The kitchen is just straight on. Let me shift this pyramid of dripping spleens and we can have a gander.
I thought we could split the fridge equally. You take the top shelf and I’ll take the bottom. Just write your name on anything that’s yours. So like here, I’ve written “MINTY” across this zip-lock bag of decaying hamstrings. I don’t wanna be “that guy,” but just ask if you wanna eat any of the sacrificial body parts. Don’t be taking gallbladders willy-nilly. Not cool, bro.
Oh, so that’s where Gareth went to! Gareth’s my old roommate. I thought he moved back to Iowa, but looks like he got lost and died of starvation.
That reminds me, did you bring a ball of string to tie around the front door knob? It’s fine. You can have Gareth’s. Just wipe the blood off and peel it out of his cold, dead hands.
Here’s your bedroom, roomie! Do whatever you want in here. This is your space. The only rules are: don’t make any changes, move any of the furniture or feel at home whatsoever.
Also a little warning, the landlord Daedalus is a bit of a dick. I’ve been asking him to take down some of these concrete slabs since 450 BC. If we knocked down a few thousand it’d just open the whole place up, architecturally speaking. But he’s being a complete douche about it, as per usual.
In terms of the neighborhood, overall it’s pretty friendly. We have had a few bovine-related hate crimes recently, though. Get this, one guy even broke into my home and tried to stab me! Crazy right?!
One last thing about our little chateau: I wouldn’t recommend ordering from Amazon or Postmates. It’s like a half-mile, 15-minute walk to the front door. If you’re up for a hike every time you want Taco Bell, be my guest. I mean, you could let them do the walk, but the last five delivery drivers died somewhere in the apartment. You smell that? That’s Alejandro. He tried to deliver pad thai four years ago and I cannot for the life of me find his decomposing body!
Anyway, when can you move in?