Photos via Zoopla
What is living in London like? Hell. Here’s proof, beyond all doubt, that renting in London is a nightmare.
Where is it? I understand that last reference is hyper-specific (Bangor, 2005, Neuadd Emrys Evans, B414 roll through), but I also feel the experience is oddly universal. In my first year in halls I was assured the building I was in was set for demolition: some mornings I would wake up and, in the grey thin mist that surrounded me (Wales.), see the ghosts of builders in hard hats, rubbing their ruddy hands together in anticipation of wrecking my bedroom to pieces while I slept in it. Other buildings, with other friends, had their own rumours of destruction: sinks peeling off walls, windows cracked and un-repaired, the constant threat of explosion, justified decay. Only once did I ever see a building I'd drank a warm can of lager in once reduced to rubble. Every other building – essentially doomed from the moment I got there – kept creaking on, somehow, for years. Did everyone not have this? Or did I just go to an especially bad university? I know I whiffed my A-Levels, but I don't think I deserved to live in a condemned building because of it—
What is there to do locally? Oh right, yeah, just catching up: it's in Gloucester Road, in one of those SW-adjacent postcodes that exist, there, in the rich ether of untouchable London, and I obviously don't know what there is to do there, locally. Very slowly drive a Lamborghini through the traffic outside Harrods, or something. Casually buy a diamond. Accidentally walk between two Made in Chelsea regulars – season 18 onwards, though, not the boom days of Peak Spencer Matthews, instead the thin reedy crap new ones who are just hollowly going through the motions that the bois set before them, years and years before – arguing on a bridge. I don't fucking know what there is to do in west London, do I.
Alright, how much are they asking? £997 pcm, which doesn't even neatly divide into four for a sensible weekly rate. I mean, at this point just ask for a grand, isn't it. Asking for three pounds less than a grand is more insulting than just asking for a grand. "Hey: at least we’re not charging you a grand" – some cunt who is charging you £997. Be a grown up and charge me a thousand pounds.
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