lookit, msgd bindlenix this morning, and linked to a rental listing on craigslist.
Within the hour I had arranged an appointment to view the flat this evening.

So, around seven we toured the place. It sits on a major street, with a large yard and off-street parking, surrounded by a six foot wooden fence. Across the four lane street is a huge church and two rather cheap-looking hotels. It is walking distance from my current residence, and a shopping district with a fine grocer and my local. It is the upper of a pair of two bedroom flats with all mod cons. It has a wide stairway; a foyer; a living room with non-functioning fireplace; a dining room with a built-in buffet cabinet; a Wedgewood stove in the kitchen; a large pantry off the kitchen; hard wood floors throughout; and the most amazingly ugly bathroom I’ve ever seen: pink tub and commode, pink tile to (almost) match the porcelain, pink walls and ceiling to (almost) match the tile.

We filled in applications, turned over our bank account and credit card numbers, and sat a "father’s second degree" from the grandfatherly landlord, who had been there all afternoon re-painting the place. That hurdle passed, we got dinner (at our favorite Indian place), compared notes on each other’s performance (nice save, saying you had lived on campus), and confessed to each other how nervous it felt to be applying to live together.

UPDATE January 9, 2003
It was mere chance that bindlenix caught this listing, resting her eyes from footpadding the job listings. And good fortune that it turned out to be a gorgeous flat below market rate. I am even willing to call it a sign that the landlord just called and offered the flat to us. We meet him tomorrow to sign the lease.