Our House: Sapa (4/2/07)

Sapa bar is, sadly, no longer in existence, but when it was, it featured one of the best happy hours in the city. With chic drinks and $1 oysters it was a favorite of Victoria. So, it didn't surprise me in the least when Lil and I met her there to discuss my unfortunate roommate situation while munching frog legs.

Real estate in Manhattan is akin to musical chairs; when you find a deal you stay put. You grow roots. You put up with busted hot water heaters, missing smoke detectors, shady landlords, loud neighbors and most of all; roommates.

When I first moved into Manhattan from the JC (Jersey City) I landed on the Upper East Side. Courteous of craigslist, I had managed a spot in a two bedroom fourth floor walk up. My new roommate, Cherise, attended nearby Hunter Collage and seemed like the quiet type. Soon after moving in I realize how wrong I had been in my assessment of her.

She drank my liquor, ate my food and had a general disrespect for the concept of living with some one else. Most of all, she wasn't the quiet type when in came to the stream of nameless men she'd bring home; serious disrupting my sleep patterns with her wall shaking sex... on my couch. After months of her shady sexual liaisons wander through my apartment, I went so far as to have Doug install a lock on my bedroom door to keep her and her "suitors" out.

As annoying as these traits were; I was willing to put up with them.

"We put up more from our roommate then our boyfriends" I sighed to Victoria and Lil.

The real sign of trouble came three months into living with Cherise, when I awoke one day to find the cable shut off because she hadn't paid the bill. Two months later, I found an eviction noticed tacked to the front door. Apparently, Cherise wasn't paying that bill either. While I was writing checks to Cherise every month for my half of the rent, I have no idea what she was doing with them.

One day I cornered her and tried asking about it; two days later I found my room posted on craigslist. I packed all of my belongings and started moving everything of value into my friend's home. No point in keeping my TV around anyway, since the cable had been shut off for the second time in a six month period. When the boxes were packed, I invited over Faye and her boyfriend to trash the place.

Cherise's new boyfriend (who according to him was living there as well) caught us in the middle of a wine fight and threatened to call the cops. I chase him down two flights of stairs to explain to him that the cops weren't able to kick me out of my own apartment. And for now, it was still my apartment.

I left the next morning, a trail of dried chardonnay in my wake.


"How much was it?" Victoria asked, the glint in her eye confirming for me that even if I was no longer willing to put up with Cherise, someone else surely was.

*Recognize this song title? Post in the comments section.