Apartment hunting in NYC is often times harder than giving away your last piece of gum, although you KNOW you’re going to want it after your current piece loses its flavor in three minutes.
Let’s just talk about it.
My best friend and I are currently on the hunt for the PERFECT apartment. Yes, I already have an apartment, but Brandon, the best friend, and I said long ago that we would get an apartment together when he graduated. Well… that day is Saturday and if we don’t find somewhere soon, he will be sitting on the corner of 57th and Broadway, with an empty can of Beenie Weenies, collecting charity change from passersby. So, we are apartment hunting like vultures.
Today, we went to look at a place uptown. UPtown. Like, I got off the train and had a slight Canadian accent.
Last night, Brandon and I looked on Craigslist (because we figured we couldn’t go wrong looking on such a trusted sight) for apartment listings and came across quite a few.
RULE #1: If the listing has no picture and it sounds too good to be true… well, that’s because it is.
A listing that we really loved was one that had no picture, but was described as though we would be living in the palatial suite of the Waldorf Astoria. Also, there was a 24/7 Dunkin Donuts. This morning, after we were awake and semi-operational, Brandon called the landlord to try to schedule a viewing for today. She agreed.
We got ready and hopped on the train for the commute to what would soon be our new home. We were told that there were buyers ready to move in, so we needed to act fast.
And we’re back to the present. Well, the present in this story. This has obviously already happened, so present has a completely differe… well, you get it.
We get off the train and of course we’re lost. Neither of us had ever been in this neighborhood before, so we had no idea what to look for. There wasn’t a Waldorf Astoria in sight. I believe I saw a Hooker Inn. Probably owned by the same people. Brandon thinks that it’s a good idea to ask for directions, so in typical Brandon fashion, he asks a man who looks like he’s never spoken a word of English in his life. After the man opened his mouth, I realized that I was wrong. I think he had spoken one word of English in his day. One. Brandon decoded and we headed down the street, toward luxury.
RULE #2: Don’t judge a book by its cover. This apartment didn’t look bad from the outside.
So, the landlord decided that she didn’t need to stick around. Or call us to tell us that she wouldn’t be there. Or leave any details with the strange man who would be showing us the apartment.
RULE #3: If it’s a walk up, don’t wear heels. Not that either of us did…
We get to the 1,342nd floor and the fun began. The man couldn’t get the door open, so we stood there for a good three minutes, while he fidgeted and jiggled and fondled the key.
…and I filmed.
He finally opened the door, and there it was, staring us in the eye. Gold plated sinks, marble floors, chandeliers, a working oven; these were all things that this apartment didn’t include. From the mold in the shower to the sink contraption that Charlotte Bronte probably did HER dishes in, the apartment was, in a word, blech. Anne Frank would have turned her nose up to this. The shower in this place couldn’t be much worse than Auschwitz. Too soon? Shortly after… well… finding out how far we had to walk up to get there, we decided that this probably wasn’t the place for us. And airfare to get back and forth to work would really add up.
So, boys and girls, the search continues for the perfect apartment. Back to Craigslist it is!