Leaving the Couch

Rob and I signed a lease today.  The whole process of finding an apartment has been exhausting, and we've been crashing on Holly's couches for a full 2 weeks.  I get the feeling that she and her roommates would like their living room back.  So it's good to have some resolution.

The property manager through email directed us to an unmarked door on a small street.  We didn't know her name, or the name of the property management company, really.  We knew the name of the guy that was living in our apartment currently, and that the property manager wanted us to bring first month's rent, plus two months rent for deposit, all in cash.  So, standing outside the door I was about 30% sure I was going to be hit on the head and wake up in a dumpster on the other side of town without my wallet.  There were 4 or 5 buttons on the outside of the door, all with unfamiliar names, so we pushed the biggest one and hoped for the best.

The woman who opened the door turned out to be the property manger, a nice little Belgian woman in her 50's.  We went up to her office, and she seemed legit enough.  She handed us a contract, all in French.  This was a bit of a problem, but she had an electronic copy on her computer and with the help of Google Translate (insert plug here: Google Translate is awesome) we had an English copy to peruse.  We have to provide our own fire insurance, which is odd, but I am too exhausted of sleeping on a couch to argue over 150 Euros a year.

So, we handed over thousands of Euros in cash to a little Belgian woman and didn't even get any keys (we don't move in until the 1st).  And we're not 100% sure of the apartment number (we thought it was 3A, she insists it's 3G).  And we're on the hook for insurance.  But overall I think today went very well because I did not get hit on the head.