After a long conversation with the supposedly french landlord about the dangers and consequences of not locking the door to my new apartment, he left with nothing but an "au revoir" . I decided to clean first thing after he left. Looking for a maid seemed to troublesome, so I did it myself. As I cleaned stains and shoe prints off the filthy carpet, I noticed that those shoe prints were there before I came in with the "snobby french landlord". This was peculiar since he mentioned the fact that no one, including himself, had entered the place after it was sold. That didn’t matter since I now finished cleaning the carpet. 

It being summer and the apartment being on the last floor of the building, my home was the the most humid and hottest one, so I decided to turn on the air conditioning. It began to work, but suddenly sputtered, clanked, and stopped. I peeked into the vent, which was positioned in the middle of the bedroom wall, facing the bed. I backed away since it reeked of waste and rot. My nostrils taking in the horrible smell, I gagged. As I held my breath, I flew into the bathroom and grabbed an air freshener can. After spraying each vent about fifty times, - there were four of them- I could finally calmly lie down on my bed.

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