Curbed Horror Stories are firsthand reader reports about terrible San Francisco apartment experiences past and present. This week, in honor of Renters Week, we're having a rental horror story showdown. We'll post a horror story each day with a vote for the best on Thursday. The winner will advance to the national round of our network-wide contest (and the nationwide winner gets a free month's rent!). Horror stories to email@example.com, if you please.
So I tried to move to the city in July. I used to live here, and got offered a job at a nonprofit that I have always dreamed of having. Serious life goal. I found a place, and thought I hit the jackpot. It was a bit janky, but in Noe Valley where I used to live and where a have a bunch of friends residing, in my price range, had a back yard, and would consider my 110lb dog. I was stoked. I can paint janky.
After a couple of days of living there I was waking up with a sore throat and the dog was waking up swallowing really hard, something he doesn't do. I also noticed that the towels didn't dry, and when I hung the shower curtain on the wall to protect the sheetrock crumbled in my hand. Hmmm.
I called the landlord as per the mold addendum that I signed and told him that I thought there might be an issue. He didn't call me back or acknowledge the calls so I looked under the plastic and wood slat dropped ceiling and what should I find but a complete infestation!!
I called again and he tells me no one can come for days. I talk him into giving me the maintenance guy's phone number, just in case, and he actually has time to come over. He gets on a ladder to check it out and all he says is "oh, ooohh, ooohhhhooohhh." The rest is history, other than the landlord telling me it wasn't mold, and no one ever before me had complained, so it must not be there. (Very sound logic.) So, I made a deal with the devil, got my deposit back and moved into my friend's place while they were on vacation.