After six years in the same townhouse, I moved to the Montrose area. Yeah, you fucking idiot, that part of Montrose. The part your 1980s-addled brain probably goes to when it thinks of “The Montrose.” You would’ve probably been the target demographic for those PSAs about how you couldn’t get AIDS from public toilets. Because you obviously don’t know anything. But I do. Regardless, that’s where I live now.
I didn’t uproot myself to the Montrose to move in with some goddamn broad or anything awful like that. The three-bedroom townhouse I’d been renting for years was being sold, so the comfortable and cheap life I’d built with a rotating group of a buncha great dudes was finally coming to a close.
I chose a 1bed/1bath in an old, decrepit four-plex because it wasn’t a boring ol’ apartment complex with friendly property managers and fitness & business centers. Some terribly vanilla place with free coffee in the…
