Have you visited the Netherlands before? Have you been to Amsterdam, seen the beautiful houses, envisioned yourself living in one of those beautiful apartments overlooking the canal? Me too! It’s just so simple, leave it all behind, and it can all be yours. Well, I did, and let me tell you something, I was pretty darn near being fucking homeless.
Finding a place to rent in a big city in the Netherlands is its own special kind of hell. Maybe if you have 2000 bucks a month to shell out on a one bedroom that’s just big enough for you and your suitcase, you can make it work. For the rest of us humble folk, it is not so easy. My new job is in between Utrecht and Amsterdam, leaving me the luxury of leisurely picking where I would like to live. I needed a one bedroom apartment that could accommodate me, my partner, and our cute-as-fuck cat. Since my girlfriend was going to be spending half of her time in the US, we had decided that I would be paying for the Dutch apartment. The search began three weeks ago, when I naively started browsing websites for apartments in Amsterdam. This led to several emails denying my request to view the apartment (there were hundreds of people interested they said!!) to us being selected (yes, selected) to view 30 sq. meter studios for 1,250 euros a month. No, thank you.
Needless to say, we decided to focus on Utrecht. Besides, after being trampled on by all the drunk, high, and horny tourists one Saturday night, I was ready to move to a city with a higher proportion of locals. There, we were able to find several options within our price range. We spent four days one week looking at four different apartments in the city that ranged from good to fantastic. Things seemed to be looking up finally, that is, until we got to the interview portion of the selection process. That’s right, you view the apartment, you like it, and now you need to convince the realtor and the owner to let you have it. We discussed relationship statuses and salaries, we wrote emails and motivation letters, only to be on the receiving end of rejections. Until finally, just yesterday, we received that one glorious email, “the owner and I have decided that you should get the apartment. Congratulations!” I could kiss the man (just kidding, too gay for that shit).
Nothing’s final yet, but hope we sign the contract soon!