I always ask for people’s housing situation in Revelstoke, so I thought I’d share mine.
I was lucky. I found a place fast and even through Skype. I heard it’s easier to find housing if you have a full time job and don’t work at the ski hill. Perhaps there’s truth in that. However, I like to think it was my lucks, charm and facial hair.
I have three roommates. One is five-years-old and the other six. It’s the first time I’ve lived with kids. I’m the strange man inhabiting the corner bedroom, who is usually fermenting kimchi and injera in his closet.
Sometimes I babysit and take the kids to school. People always comment on how lovely “my children are” and appear confused when I say I’m just the roommate.
I love my house. Sure, sometimes the flying tubes of toothpaste across the living room at bedtime is a bit much or when Tobias thinks its really funny to ring the doorbell at 6 am, I think I’ve made a terrible mistake. But, in the end the house is full of life. And I get to play with LEGO and watch Disney films. Score!
It’s far nicer from where I lived previously. I moved to Revelstoke from Edson, Alberta. Edson made international headlines last summer when someone tried to burn down the mosque. It’s the kind of place where even mentioning the word “pipeline” suggests that you’re against them. I lived a block from the strip club, where my roommate spent 99.9 per cent of his free time and money.
Anyways, we lived with the landlady. She was particular, liked rules, was a massage therapist and worked from home. When she had clients, we weren’t allowed to use the bathroom. So, I went to A & W a few blocks over. If we were lucky enough to use the bathroom in the house, we’d have to clean after every use. One time, the landlady got mad at my roommate for not composting his facial hair after shaving. Another time, she told me, “I’ve smelled your shoes and jackets and while they don’t smell, I’m pretty sure you do. Wear more deodorant.”
I’d come home to notes telling me take my cup off the drying rack or the garbage bin outside was too dirty. I wasn’t allowed to have my car out front so I parked a couple blocks over. And heaven forbid I had guests.
If my stomach growled, I’d have sneak cookies into my bedroom when she wasn’t looking because “eating in the sleeping quarters wasn’t permitted”.
I will admit, I’ve never lived in such a clean home. As I drove away from Edson to Revelstoke, the landlady was rigiously scrubbing the walls of my bedroom with so much bleach the paint started to peel.
One of the only questions I asked during the Skype interview with the rental house in Revelstoke was, “can I use the bathroom whenever I wanted?”
Erin, the mom sounded confused.
I’m even allowed to eat cookies in bed. Now I ask, what more to life could there possibly be?