Living Hell 009: A Daft boardgame nightmare

Welcome back to Living hell, the series profiling the worst kips on Daft in Dublin. For this edition, we’ve made up our own game to highlight the absurdity of five different properties.

Whether it be a bedroom oven or a weird “open-plan” bathroom with a mattress pushed in the corner, landlords seem gripped by the dystopian game of who can create the worst hybrids.

Their hard-ons for calling a fire hazard a “creative solution” coupled with their disdain for human decency has become incredibly jarring. So with it being the January-ist January in existence and in the spirit of retaliation, I thought why not make a disjointed game of our own. One that highlights just how ridiculous they are.

I call it ‘Misery‘.

The name of the game is simple: You play the role of a young renter in the capital firmly grounded in the current rental climate. To begin, you are given half the amount of the average monthly rent in Dublin (€1,022), you roll a dice and are presented with a random property from Daft that correlates with the number the dice lands on. We will then proceed to map out your pathetic little existence in the property.

Why half the average rent you ask? Well, considering the average rent in the capital is €2,044 a month, you’d be hard-pressed to find many young people who have that kind of money aside for rent. This game is based in the same stone-cold reality that people in positions of power don’t understand or more likely – fail to care about.

And yes, I get it, Dublin is a cosmopolitan city, the average salary is higher, landlords are just responding to the market, yadda yadda yadda. I’ve heard it all before, but this is my game and I’m using my Uno reverse card so everyone has to play by my rules, which just so happen to emphasise the crippling nature of the market.

“But where is the fun in that?”

I mean, the world is on fire right now and there isn’t much you can do so you might as well laugh? I kind of see it as my answer to an open-world video game. But rather than starting as a druid or an elf, you begin your quest as History and Politics graduate slashing through mud huts that you’d commonly find in middle earth on your affordable housing pilgrimage.

Oh, and what do you win once you’ve made a year-long commitment to sleep next to a toaster off the back of a dice roll? You’ll be so mentally weary by the end of this you’ll just be glad to have a roof over your head. You’ll never want to play again. A ouija board will look like a piece of piss compared to this.

Before we slide into proceedings, I’ll preface this like have done many times before. I’m not against affordable housing in an expensive city – far from it. I am, however, against people making ‘houses’ out of unliveable conditions and charging less than the average rent as if it is a service to humanity.

Now, without further a due, let’s roll the dice.

1

€1,200 per month, York Road, Rathmines

Our little game is January’s fucked up answer to December advent calendars and behind door number one you’ll find a kitchen with a bed in it.

The most depressing thing about this place isn’t its disturbing lack of space or its clinical decor, it’s the fact in our game you can’t even afford the luxury of listening to your sink drip from your bed. At €1,200 per month, this flat on York Road in Rathmines is around €200 out of your reach.

You’ll need to roll again.

Click here to view the property.

2

€680 per month, Brookhaven Park, Corduff

Now, this is more like it. Home sweet home.

Nothing breeds confidence like a loose fire extinguisher beside the kettle.

At €680 per month, you’ll be able to comfortably afford this place. You’ll even have around €300 spare to spend on the necessary therapy and mindfulness apps to help you cope with living in a corridor. Hell, maybe you could grab some shades too to deflect the beams coming from the floodlight that was borrowed from Dalymount.

However, no amount of money will help you understand the architectural first that is having a doormat and chest of drawers within a yard of each other.

Click here to view the property.

3

€920 per month, Willow Park Avenue, Glasnevin

Rolling a three sends you to jail, unfortunately. However, not only are you crammed in a 5×5 cell, but you have to pay for it.

There’s so many questions with this property, some I’m afraid to get the answers to. The first of which is, what is that wiring hanging from the ceiling?

Moreover, it’s pretty alarming that there is no desk or anywhere to put one? Enjoy eating your dinner over the sink!

Bon appetit.

Click here to view the property.

4

€760 per month, Fernhill Road, Terenure

If you rolled a four you get to overtake your opponent and move up on the board. You get promoted from back garden jail to driveway shoebox.

Nothing like living in someone’s driveway and having them drown out your tears with the sounds of their Mercedes every morning.

I’ve become somewhat a multi-linguist in my time writing about Dublin’s dumps. The description for this property reads as follows:

“We are proud to advertise this fully furnished and comfortable private studio. The studio is equipped with all modern conveniences.”

That basically translates to, “We played enough landlord Tetris to be able to slot a bed, cooker, sink and microwave into what should be a hallway entrance. Please pay us €760 to feel sad every time you wake up and are reminded of your lonely existence.

Click here to view the property.

5

€840 per month, Griffith Road, Finglas

Landing a five will earn you this – a single room in someone’s back garden obstructed by a shed that looks sturdier than your new home.

There’s just so much to unpack here.

The fridge is hiding behind a curtain. This place is so bad it’s actually got inanimate objects wincing.

That chest of drawers is appearing in a lot of the properties I’ve seen and I was beginning to wonder if there was some deal on in Ikea, but as it turns out all the listings in this piece are from the same company. In a twist of fate, our dystopian board game has mutated into a weird modern-day rental market Cluedo. It was ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶l̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶ ̶i̶t̶ ‘Hosting Power’ that rented them all out.

€840 a month to experience the stress of having to squeeze between your bed and the wall every time you want to go to the toilet.

Click here to view the property.

You roll a six and you move to Kildare.

Conclusion

The properties included in this edition of Living Hell, took literally five minutes to find. It was a result of being genuinely appalled at the quantity of ridiculous Gaffs on the first page of search results. I get it, it’s an expensive city, but the severe lack of innovation, planning or empathy is leading to an increasing amount of places that are not fit for purpose.

I’m slapping a big 8/10 on the shitemeter for these properties.