Worst place you've lived/almost lived in?

Big Nasty wrote: »

Worked in an Irish Pub in Germany 20+ years back. There were two long term rental apartments that staff used to stay in, lads in one, girls in the other. Apartments themselves were fine apart from the fact that every inch of free space had a bed in it meaning there were usually about 10 people living in each two bed apartment. To be fair that kind of happened organically as new staff were taken on and the landlords weren't aware of it.

As tends to happen when people are working abroad the sessions were unreal. There was very little drugs involved, mostly just drink. 14 hour work days followed by marathon drinking sessions. One lad ended up in hospital burned out. Anyhow the riding that was done was unnatural. Staff literally paired off and some nights there could be twenty staying in the one two bed apartment. It was like an orgie in every room with couples openly riding the hole of each other bareback as others went about their business.

Good times!

Haha.

Germany was always very Gay friendly .

Big Nasty wrote: »

Maybe I explained it wrong but nobody was gay. Although given the chance I'm sure a few of them wouldn't have said no! :eek:

Ha was joking BN.

So I take the place.

Now, the guy had made some effort at tidying the room I was renting (2 bedroom flat), so, whilst the living quarters were obscene, the bedroom itself - for sure squalid, but not yet at "crack den" levels of unsightliness.

Give me - 4, maybe, 6 weeks.

I kid you not.
I had the place strewn with crumbs and "run off" effectively, from my binge eating of junk food in there.
Somehow, the mice never found their way into my room - which was a miracle.
We're talking, the bed, the floor, in couch.
I had basically accumulated this array of beer cans, stood upright and side by side, just beside the couch - which had began to take up a fairly hefty portion of the floor space.

The obese guy that lived that, had pretty much immediately began to blame me for the filth and depravity of the domicile; by example - there were food stains on the walls, probably dating back 10 years; pretty much part of the fabric at that point.
No cleaning material stood a chance against them.

The first week I was there, he started yelling at me for the awful mess in the kitchen.


So, naturally - I wasn't about to do this dude any favours.

The smell in the place already bad - but even he began to complain about the stench from my bedroom that materialized after my first few weeks there.

I had basically decided that washing bedclothes was not an option.

In addition to - being an absolute broke cheap skate - the guy would only allow me to use his wash machine on "eco-wash", which basically damped the clothes, but never cleaned them or took the smell out.

The upshot being, opening my bedroom window, would result in birds falling out of the sky.

Cont....

So you've got a clear picture.

Heinous already - I move in, and somehow, manage to accentuate the immoral level of filth.

I had acquired the habit of smoking these fcuk-off cigars, and decided - just as minor pay back, among other things to my obese living mate - to use his glasses as ash trays.
So my bedside locker was strewn with several glasses, containing cigar butts and ash - corresponding odours, etc.


Anyways - one fine summers evening, two or three months in, I was feeling peckish - so stuck on a pot full of pasta - on the gas stove in the kitchen - beside the grease soaked curtains.

I then retired to my bedroom, where I promptly fell asleep on the couch - given the warm sticky heat of the day.

My housemate was out, for once - basically not present.

I woke up maybe, 40 minutes later, and decided to go into the city center, have a mooch, leer at some hot girls etc.

So, some hour and half later, it was like - "I've forgotten something".

I realize in a panic I've left the dudes stove on full blast under a large pot of freaking macaroni.

When I enter the building upon my return, after having rushed back immediately, I can smell the smoke from the bottom of the staircase.

When I enter the apartment, I'm engulfed by a cloud of smoke.
I make my way into the kitchen - to see the entire cooker blackened, the wall half charred, and billows of black carbon smoke wafting out of the cauterized pot.

So, I handle the situation from there.


As you can imagine, in any normal environment with normal people, someone being so absent minded as to quite possibly almost take out the building via pyro-carelessness, will normally spell "walking papers".

Some time later when my housemate returned, he seemed to indulge himself initially in some yelling, and then when I offered to join him for something to eat - gladly accepted, and all was forgotten.


The reason being, he was so chronically socially withdrawn and malcontent, that anyone, offering to share time with him, let alone sit over food with him, would be so appreciated and valued - that it would transcend the possibility of a his apartment going up in a raging inferno.

ELM327 wrote: »

I think it's pretty self explanatory tbh

Please explain id like to hear. I Live in Waterford and think its a great place to live.

Went looking at a room in Galway one time.

The pictures on Daft looked fine, I was a student at the time and the rent was cheap.

Turns out there was a reason for that.

The house was owner occupied, it would only be me and him. Was welcomed at the front door (when It was eventually answered) by a fairly fidgety chap.

The front room was full of rubbish and clearly had not been cleaned in some time. The kitchen was knee deep with rubbish, I mean you could barely walk in.

All the time the owner is getting more and more nervous. Think he mentioned something about knocking down a wall in the house too.

Was shown the bedroom which had a load of his things strewn around and a not so new mattress.

My skin and hair was starting to get itchy at this stage, I assume from the less then hygienic surroundings, and at this stage I just wanted to get out and have a shower.

Cutie 3.14 wrote: »

Waterford

I was on to Waterford and they told me to tell you... 'Go f*ck yourself'

Israel in the 86

After Israel, kilburn,then leafy cricklewood

drillyeye wrote: »

Reminds me of a place I actually stayed in way back. There was a two bed flat above mine (and to the left) and there were constant complaints about leaking water and such, just watching the stains grow across the ceilings and walls.

The real gem were the bin bags though. The provided bins outside were always overflowing, there needed to be three times as many bins to hold it all, at least.

That went on for a while, until the landlord copped on that there 14 (fourteen!) people living upstairs, hence the bin situation. They were quickly given the boot. I went up to see the empty flat afterwards and I was amazed that so many people were able to live there, it was very small even for 2 people. They had been working shifts all the time, every inch of the floors taken up with makeshift beds.

Crazy stuff. Like those trains in india with half a million people hanging off the side! But in Dublin city centre.

This in turn reminds me....

That place with the fat dude?

Well - years before I moved in, like way back - he described how there was a crack den/brothel upstairs.

I'm reminded of that specifically because, how you describe every inch of the floor being covered in mattresses.

That's how he described it also.

He also told a story of how he nailed one crack-hore, who was strung out on the stair case one time - in exchange for, I guess money.

Apparently the upstairs operation was raided and shut down after some dude jumped out the window in a hallucinogenic fit; obviously he didn't survive.


Some landlords - they're only concerned about the money.
Humanitarian decency goes by the board.

Skedaddle wrote: »

We had a three "bedroom" apartment. In reality it was two bedrooms and a converted utility room which was making do as a single room.

I was doing an internship and had no money, so it had to do. We had:

Bedroom 1: A couple from China.
Bedroom 2: Two single beds : Me and a guy from Germany, an inflatable mattress another guy from France and sometimes another inflatable mattress with whoever was in need of a house who we happened to know.
Bedroom 3: Insane, grumpy woman who used to appear now and then to have huge fights with people for no reason.

I basically worked all day, ate out, and stayed in the office (overnight if I could) to avoid going home.

And for this I was paying £700/month.

I eventually found something better, but at that time, London was just off the scale nuts.

Where?

Myself and a buddy lived a few months in a squat in Holland. We intended to work there for a year, but instead of going over and finding accommodation with the money we saved and then work, we spent 3 weeks in Amsterdam partying. Anyway, when we ran outta money we moved out of The Dam and moved to a large town south, we were sitting on a bench sizing up a bush to sleep under when I looked behind me at a large disused office block with a person going in its metal door. We followed in and met up with a heroin junkie from London who let us crash in his pad; a large office on the 13th floor. Turned out he was a heroin dealer. We met some very interesting people over the following months. Some people who gave up all for the skag, some had respectful jobs, others were hopeless and helpless. I remember one night he took out a guitar and there started to jam, only problem was there was only 5 unturned strings on the guitar. Us, we never asked for or were asked to try heroin, we fairly quickly learned some tricks on survival. The stench of the place was terrible and a sign saying "don't **** on the stairs" greeted you in the evenings from work. There was no water or electricity we showered at work and keet our valuables at the train station in a locker. We had 250 guilders left for 2 weeks unpaid when we got sorted for work 2 days later. We stayed until December; 3 months before heading back to Ireland.