The Most Weird Apartment Listings I Found Online (And I Still Applied)
- Julian Vane
- Jun 20
- 4 min read
If the rent seems too good to be true, congratulations — you’re about to tour a war crime with a water heater.
I once responded to a Craigslist ad for a “cozy basement apartment” — which turned out to be a concrete furnace room in a stranger’s house, and I still walked in like a dumb little raccoon chasing the scent of cheap rent and trauma.
It wasn’t a bedroom. It wasn’t even a room. It was the mechanical heart of the home, a cement box with a water heater and a single dangling lightbulb that flickered like it was haunted by the ghosts of previous tenants who tried to install a curtain.
And that’s not even the wildest part.
A Tour of My Would-Be Dungeon
The couple showing the place greeted me from the top of the stairs like I was entering The Descent. No eye contact. No smiles. Just a vague gesture toward the boiler room and a warning:
“Watch your head. The pipes leak sometimes.”
In the corner sat a dehumidifier that looked like it had seen some things, and in the background, a German Shepherd barked like he’d been promised a bite of every prospective renter.
This wasn’t a rental. It was a trap set by medieval landlords who expected me to pay $400/month to LARP as the Hunchback of HVAC.
The Guard Dog Clause
There was no door — just a curtain made from what I assume was a repurposed shower liner. The upstairs “landlords” (read: captors) told me the dog was “protective but friendly,” which is code for ‘if you die, it’ll be loud.’
This wasn’t “pet friendly.”
This was “you’re the pet.”
The idea that I’d live under their snarling fur missile, in a space with no windows, no airflow, and a pipe that hissed, and be grateful for the opportunity? That’s the level of gaslighting I expect from a timeshare seminar, not a Facebook rental group.
The Craigslist Cave of Wonders
And yet — and yet! — I still considered it.
Because every apartment I toured that month was a different flavor of mental illness.
Let me take you on the tour no realtor will give you. Here are some weird apartment listings.
1. The Bathroom-Adjacent “Studio”
Listing description: “Efficient use of space. Cozy studio with custom floor plan.”
Reality: A toilet in the kitchen.
Like, next to the fridge.
If you wanted to make a quesadilla while actively pooping, this was your sanctuary.
I asked the landlord if there was a wall going in at some point.
He said, “Why would there be?”
2. The Airbnb Hostage Situation
Listing description: “Short-term sublet in shared space. Super chill vibes.”
Reality: I was told I couldn’t leave the bedroom unless it was my assigned 30-minute kitchen window.
I felt like I was in a sitcom written by Kafka. The host had laminated rules on every surface and a whiteboard calendar tracking everyone’s bowel movements (I wish I were kidding).
3. The Snake Enthusiast’s Den
Listing description: “Pet lover’s paradise. Room in reptile-friendly home.”
Reality: I walked in and saw 19 snakes.
Terrariums lined every wall like a biblical plague was being incubated.
The renter said, “They’re mostly harmless, but don’t open that one,” pointing to a tank with a lock on it.
I didn’t ask which one. I just left and Venmo’d him $25 for the emotional damage.
4. The Retirement Home for Furniture
Listing description: “Fully furnished. Great deal.”
Reality: Yes — if you enjoy rotting recliners, beds shaped like sadness, and rugs that have seen unspeakable acts.
It was like stepping into a hospice for mid-century sofas.
5. The Fire Hazard Loft
Listing description: “Artistic converted attic space.”
Reality: An attic with a toaster oven, extension cords as structural beams, and a single smoke alarm that was hanging by a thread — literally.
The landlord said, “Just don’t plug in more than one thing at a time.”
Why Do We Do This to Ourselves?
Because when you’re broke, desperate, or just emotionally bankrupt but still holding out hope, $400 a month sounds like salvation.
Even if it means living in the crawl space from Parasite.
We’re told to “just move out” or “stop being so picky,” but those people haven’t stared down the barrel of a furnace and said,
“Okay, but utilities included?”
Red Flags I Now Ignore Like a Pro
“Great for introverts” = You will be isolated in a shed.
“Not a legal dwelling, but safe” = There’s a gas leak.
“Bring your own hot plate” = There’s no kitchen. Or shame.
“Must love animals” = You are now a zookeeper. Rent is your enclosure fee.
“Quiet neighborhood” = You’re moving next to a cemetery or an illegal strip club.
If You’re Reading This While Apartment Hunting:
Always Google the address.
Ask what the actual square footage is.
If it says “cozy,” assume it’s a murder closet.
If rent is under $600 and it’s not in rural Arkansas, assume you’re the roommate of a water heater.
Why This Blog Post About Weird Apartment Listings Exists
Because Zillow won’t let me leave reviews like:
“Felt like Saw, but with more dampness.”
“Would have signed a lease if I were a troll living under a bridge.”
“10/10 would haunt again.”
If this post saves just one person from leasing an emotionally abusive crawl space, I’ve done my job.
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