Having a background in architecture and being more than just a little anal-retentive, I tend to notice things in buildings that others might miss, often prompting a well-deserved, "WTF?"
Our apartment—and the complex of which it is a part—is undeniably full of these…quirks.
Admittedly some of these oddities might be regional, sort of like coin-op car washes in Denver not having a place to actually dry your car after you've washed it. But others are more like "Was the architect on crack?"
Don't get me wrong: I really do like our apartment, but the longer we live here, the more convinced I am that (a) the place was designed by someone fresh out of architectural school, (b) one company built the apartments and a different company built the parking structure, and (c) there was either damn little communication between those two companies, or precious little attention was actually paid to the blueprints during construction.
While our community ostensibly looks like a single structure from the outside, it's actually an amalgamation of six different buildings linked by enclosed catwalks that surround an open-air pool area and free-standing garage. I realized this multi-building reality one day while trying to figure out the bizarre apartment numbering scheme that on the surface made absolutely no sense. However, when viewed from an architectural drawing perspective, the numbering did actually make some sense (first number is building, second number is floor, and third/fourth is apartment).
In any case, this "logic" doesn't translate into the real world because the building numbers themselves aren't posted anywhere on the property and there's no directional signage whatsoever. Once inside the property, it feels like one big building, so it's no wonder delivery people are always getting lost. (I submitted a suggestion to the property manager that some signage be installed in the hallways, but considering the place has been around for five plus years already and this has probably been suggested before, I doubt anything will come of it.)
What I don't understand even more than the numbering system is why the supposedly straight-line common hallways have all sorts of weird jogs in them, sometimes of only a few inches. Some of this can be attributed to structural support columns, but in other cases it looks like someone was asleep at the wheel and realized that things weren't lining up during construction and had to make some last minute design changes.
This propensity for things not lining up is no more apparent than in the parking garage itself. At the top of every ramp, there's a height difference of about three inches where the ramp meets the level area. It's like the beam that spans the width of the ramp from shear wall to outside column was either poured too high or floors on either side were poured too low. They've gone back and smoothed out the edges with cement, and in all fairness these might be nothing more than really poorly-designed intentional speed bumps, but if they are, they suck.
The north side of the property is about five feet lower than the south. In order to keep the first floor at "ground level" across the full length of the property, stairs had to be put in the hall somewhere. That's understandable. But wouldn't common sense dictate that you might want the stairs in the apartment building to line up with the stairs in the parking garage?
Ha! Remember, this is Denver, where apparently you aren't supposed to dry your cars after washing them.
Instead of placing the stairs where the higher part of the apartment building floor would line up with the higher part of the parking structure so you could walk directly from the upper part of the garage to the upper part of the apartments, they placed them fifty—that's FIVE ZERO—feet apart, forcing you to first go down a flight of stairs in the garage, and then back up the same distance in the apartment building to get to the same level. But even that doesn't line up properly, because once you enter the vestibule linking the garage and apartments, there's a ridiculous 6-inch step that shouldn't even be there if everything was designed and built properly. And this is present on every damned floor in the building!
And while we're on the subject of the garage, I have to ask why the entrance to the garage was not put on the main street the complex abuts (that's plowed during snowstorms) instead of on a side street that's never plowed and turns into a solid sheet of ice.
These little WTFs continue inside our apartment. There's the closet in the hallway that's only 6-inches deep (in spite of the flimsy plastic-coated wire shelving that's everywhere in this place, we tend to think of it as a very large medicine cabinet because—surprise, surprise—there isn't one in the bathroom). While at first glance it would appear we had a lot more storage in the kitchen than we had at our place in Phoenix, that's not the case. For some reason (known only to the architect and his god) the shelves on all the lower cabinets are only half the depth of the cabinets. Seriously?
And then there's the electrical stuff. The bathroom light and fan are on the same circuit. It wouldn't be an issue if the fan didn't sound like a jet taking off. Yeah, I understand why forcing ventilation to come on whenever the light is turned on will cut down on moisture buildup and mold growth, but I'd still rather have an option to turn it off. (I'm actually thinking this may be a difference in the electrical code between Arizona and Colorado, so I'm not going to bitch about this too much.)
There's a six-foot long hall that connects the bedroom, bath, and living room/kitchen area that has a ceiling mounted light wired to a 3-way switch on either end of the hall. A 3-way switch for an 6-foot hall. Really? I can literally stretch out my arms (not even all the way) and touch both switches simultaneously. The kitchen however, which could really do with a 3-way switch (one by the entry and one on the other side of the room that connects to the living area) doesn't have one.
I haven't yet figured out exactly what type of heat we have in the apartment and I keep forgetting to ask the leasing agent. I don't think it's electric because there hasn't been a huge increase in our electric bill since it's gotten cold, whereas our gas bill has been steadily climbing. But is it direct gas heat or something else? After taking a good long look in the utility closet, I'm wondering now if it might be some kind of hot water system. While I'm not aware of any heating system that would utilize a domestic water heater as a heat source (I have been out of the architectural business for quite some time), there are a lot of extra pipes coming and going from that tank that I've never seen before.
The general build quality of the place is what you'd expect for an apartment built in 2005. Not horrible, but then again, not great. (Blame Mike Holmes for my critical eye.) With the exception of the walk-in closet in the bedroom (which you can hang meat in if the door's closed and there's no air circulation) the walls are well insulated and we have double-paned windows. The carpet however, is cheap. It should've been replaced before we moved in, but I guess the management figured they could stretch one more lease out of it before having to spend another $500. Thankfully it's only in the living/dining area and bedroom. We're going to cover the filthy mess in the living room with a nice rug as soon as funds allow.
The plus side to all this is that the place is starting to finally feel like home. Despite my commute (I'm simply starting to refer to Colorado Boulevard between the I-25 interchange and our apartment—not bad in the morning but horrific in the afternoon—as "four miles of st00pid"), Ben and I both like the location. Starbucks, Einstein's, and Heidi's Deli are within a block, there's a Conoco (yeah, yeah, I know, but there are very few options in Denver) station on the corner, Cherry Creek Mall is about ten minutes away, there's an excellent Chinese Delivery nearby and some exciting plans are in place to raze the abandoned University of Colorado medical center campus across the street from us and turn it into an urban shopping/dining district over the next couple years. So yeah, in spite of the quirks we're starting to really like it here.
