When asked to describe their home in one word, the residents of 1126 Broad Street tossed out “Boobs,” “Giggle,” “Chill,” and “Kitchen.” But that doesn’t quite sum up Rack City.
Their saga started last fall when then-juniors Hannah Bauman, Carla Eckland, Victoria Myer, Grace Mendel, Eleanor Ross and Zoe Rodriguez decided to live together. However, they weren’t exactly able to tour the house they planned to rent, as all six were abroad at the time.
“We did rent this house sight unseen,” Myer said.
Despite coming in blind, the group has become quite at home at the residence, even developing a rivalry of sorts between the bottom floor and the second floor, home to Bauman and Mendel.
While the first floor passes their time giggling on the living room couch, the second floor maintains their superiority.
“[The] second floor is better,” Bauman said.
The divisive issue between the floors is a domesticated one: whether or not to get a pet.
The first floor would love a cat, but the second floor is not fond of the idea.
“I’m not anti-pet,” Bauman qualified. “But I’m anti-taking care of a pet … I’m pro-pet. But I don’t want to touch it or feed it.”
The second floor has other activities to busy themselves without a pet.
“Grace and I just eat chocolate in her bed sometimes,” Bauman said. “We [also] play a lot of Taylor Swift up there.”
However, when the six first moved in, they faced a bigger problem than debate over a four-legged friend—the house was a wreck.
“We cleaned for literally a week straight,” Eckland said.
In order to prevent this filth from returning, the residents share a chore wheel, which determines which house duty each person has to complete each week. Chores include cleaning the kitchen and bathroom, which aren’t always pleasant tasks.
“I send a lot of passive aggressive emails,” Rodriguez admitted.
Beyond the condition of the house when the six arrived, the house has some other issues that the Rack City residents have to handle. The front door is inconsistent in performing its most vital function—opening—during low temperatures and the ceiling in Ochs’s room leaks. They also agreed that their basement is a feature of the house they avoid, labeling it as “sketchy,” “disgusting” and “terrifying.”
“You can tell in the basement that the foundation of the house is crumbling,” Eckland said.
However, one issue with the house only seems to bother Ochs.
“Our fridge stinks right now … I think someone has farted every time I [open it],” Ochs said, without receiving agreement from any of her housemates.
The six friends also were not able to agree on a name for the house at the beginning of the year, tossing around what they unscientifically estimated as 200 or 250 names, including Mah Tits and Easy Street, in an email thread before settling on Mendel’s idea of Rack City.
“[We chose Rack City] because we got tired of talking about what name we wanted it to be,” Eckland said.
One feature of the house that the six take pride in is a sticker on the toilet of Moaning Myrtle, which Myer claimed makes their bathroom The Chamber of Secrets. Ochs also said they are also proud of their mantle, which includes pheasant feathers, a cross and a doorway to Narnia.
“We have a lot of portals to other worlds here,” Myer revealed.
Though the group does a lot together, such as planning a Tit Head video, they do prepare food differently, which Bauman has taken an interest in.
“Each of us cooks in a very unique style that represents our personality,” she said.
While Myer cooks “random sh*t,” Rodriguez’s style is “down home, whatever that means.” Ochs likes “gourmet,” but also “whatever” and Eckland prefers “Southwest.” Bauman enjoys a “Mediterranean diet” and Mendel’s appetite can best be summarized by “cereal.”
Each tenant carries their own appetite and personality, but the house carries a collective personality that can’t quite be identified with just one word. Maybe two words will have to do: Rack City.