Living Hell 004: Storage Wars Dublin – The Bedside Spatula

Words: Dylan Murphy

Ever wondered what it’s like to live inside a Storage Wars’ vault?

What is it?
According to the very generous description on this particular property is a “Perfectly located, bright and spacious comfortable basement studio apartment in this large period house.

Come on buddy. That creative writing module you did in your final semester may have spruced up your tinder bio a bit, but your empty words ain’t fooling me.

When your bed is physically touching a sofa that is supposed to be in the living area you can’t call a place “spacious”. That’s like calling your lockdown bowl cut an avantgarde trim.

Anyway, let’s feast our eyes on this place.

Imagine a vault from Storage Hunters, but only it contains all the random shite advertised on Gumtree in your local area, you pull up the shutters and are met by this:


Is that a gate from someone’s driveway behind the bed?!

Changing your clothes in this glorified assault course would be a fucking nightmare as well. Enjoy your morning hike from one wardrobe to another.

I love how optimistic the landlord is as well. Three chairs. THREE! I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think this will be the social hub you envision.

But that’s not all! Look closer.


If you have a kink for kitchen utensils you are in luck, otherwise, you’ll be keeping a spatula next to your bed. Maybe it could double up as a fly swatter to bat away the insects that’ll circle around that crusty looking mattress.

There’s no cutlery drawer either so you’ll likely keep your butter knives next to the johnnies in the bedside table.

The microwave on top of the chest of  the archetypal IKEA drawers is a new one for me. The power lead is pulled so tight it actually looks like even an inanimate object is trying to run away from this place.

An upside though is you can put the microwave timer on in the morning and clock how many ready meals you can make in the time it takes you to get all your clothes from the various storage cupboards. The capital’s landlords have inadvertently coined a new measurement of time.

“Yeah pal I’ll be there in three ham and mushroom carbonaras”.

This place is the physical embodiment of a sigh.

I keep finding myself going to say something irate out loud and stopping dead to exhale loudly. This is what the rental landscape is doing to me. It really does look like some discount conga line of the world’s least inspiring furniture that’s armed with akimbo spatula tables. (Yes that is also a thing now).

Where is it?
Upper Gardiner Street, Dublin 1, Dublin City Centre. Which is handy enough to be fair, but it doesn’t excuse the fact you’ll pay €775 a month to live in a basement with no mention of a toilet or shower. What is it with these bathroomless properties? I guess brushing your teeth in the same room you hike, eat and sleep in is cool – if you use the same brainless, abstract thinking of the person that wrote the description you could say it’s like a wilderness experience!

I’m keeping it short and sweet this week, this is genuinely a disgrace. I’m running out of ways to say eat the government and bin the landlords, but yeah, that.

7.5/10 on the Shitemeter.