The Hunt, Part III (15 Minutes Late)...

(Buckle-up, it's going be a long post)
Just a few minutes before my noon meet-up at the brokerage on Wednesday, I came up from the subway a couple of blocks from their offices and had a voice mail on my phone from Marcus (also not his real name). Marcus said he was calling me at the request of Camille and had several addresses for us to go out and view today. I returned his call, we spoke briefly, met at the office and within minutes was headed out the door to see apartments.

The four properties on his list were all east side, and while he thought it best to start farthest north in Yorkville (Upper East Side) and work our way down, I saw that he had one in Murry Hill (Midtown East) and that I wanted to see that one first. Murray Hill has actually been my target area because it so centrally located. From there I can walk nearly anywhere. I also love it because it is an easy ride on the "6" train to Union Square where I can get to Whole Foods and Trader Joe's. Another nice thing about the area is the shorter distance to everything means smaller cab fares.

We arrive at a nice looking building on 29th between 2nd Ave and 3rd, and take the elevator to the top (5th) floor. Marcus opens the door, and I fall in love. The place is huge! At least 400 square feet and only $1,645 ($45 over my budget). It had a very large foyer/dining area, nice closets, a lovely kitchen with a pass through to the living room, and the windows overlooked the tree lined street below. Before even looking at the bathroom, I said "I want this place!" I spent another four or five minutes looking around and told Marcus I wanted to put in an application. We headed back downstairs, and he called the office to let them know we were headed back in to put in an application. He said clearly to me "Finding the right place is but the first half of the process, we still have to apply and get accepted" Those words are so true.

After quickly taking the subway back uptown to the offices, we got up to the street and Marcus had a voice mail on his phone. It was Camille letting him know that an application for that apartment had arrived fifteen minutes earlier and the apartment was gone. I was crushed. Just in the time we were on the subway, the place was gone. Marcus' words from a few minutes earlier hit home.

Well, we were less than a block from the office so Marcus suggested we go upstairs and look to see what else there may be in my target neighborhood. The harsh reality is that with my meager budget of $1,600 (which is a lot of money to me), the average Manhattan studio pushing $2,100 and a vacancy rate of less than 1%, my chances of finding a place in an area I want to be is slim to none. When we went back upstairs and I sat with Marcus and did a search on their database (one of the largest in the city) there was just nothing. NOTHING. So I reluctantly agreed to see a place in Yorkville on 90th btwn 1st and 2nd. As we were getting ready to go see it, Camille came over with another listing in Murray Hill. I was elated.

We decided to go see the Murray Hill property and then head up to Yorkville to see the one we previously had planned to see. After repeating the exact same subway ride we had done only minutes before, we landed at 31st btwn 3rd and Lex. Wow, what an area... We get to the building and it is a lovely brownstone with a gorgeous red door. To get to the apartment though, we needed to go down to the basement door, and ring the first buzzer. This is when the weirdness begins. The apartment is located on the first floor, but to get to it, you first must enter the basement door, walk through an office which looked to be the private office for the landlord, then through another door, up a flight of stairs and at the top of the stairs is a small vestibule and two doors. We walk in, and the 12x18 room is dark. In one corner, the one and only window (facing north) is under a set of stairs outside, so the only light is filtered through the stairs. In the opposite corner there is very dark but glowing hallway which resembles a tunnel. Upon approach to the hallway, a bright light at the end beckons and turns out to be the kichen, a 5x5 affair with no cabinet space or any space really, it's only redeeming feature is the two large windows which let in tons of light that doesn't reach the rest of the apartment. Parallel to the long hallway is the bathroom. At about ten feet long, and only about 30" wide (seriously), it contains the toilet, sink and stall shower (no tub) all laid out in tandem with a window under the same set of stairs as the main room. To add insult to it all, I then found out the ample closet space is not in the actual apartment but just outside the front door in the little vestibule. It was ample in size, but not really secure except for a small section behind a locked door at the back of the closet. Now, I don't know about you, but generally, I like to keep my clothes and other hidden posessions inside my apartment, and not have to leave my home to go get a pair of undies after my shower.

To sum this place up... Walk downstairs and through a private office to go upstairs, a bathroom shaped like a hallway, dark foreboding main room, and closet outside of the apartment.... All for the sum of $1,700 a month! A hundred bucks over my budget. I don't think so. With that, we headed up to Yorkville to see the next place.

We arrived at 90th between 2nd and 3rd (close to 2nd, damn that is a long walk from the subway) to a building that was just plain. This apartment ($1,550) was located on the second floor, and was about as uninteresting as could be. It was also shockingly small for the neighborhood (they tend to be a bit bigger up here in the far northern reaches up the Upper East Side) with the main room being maybe 12x16. The deal-breaker (besides the location) was that the kitchen was covered in wall to wall tile of a color and pattern that only somebody from the former soviet republic could appreciate. I mean it was everywhere. I suspect this was to prevent you from hanging anything on the wall without a suction cup. The bathroom was just as bad. It was completely tiled everywhere but the ceiling in a weird blue/green/grey tile, the likes of I have never seen. (Do landlords ever think about the fact that people have to live in these places?) At that point, I was tired, and hungry and the only other places on Marcus' list were also in the Upper East Side, which I really don't want to live in. So, I said lets call it a day, and try again tomorrow.

We parted ways, and I headed back down to Murray Hill thinking maybe my just being there would open up opportunities (and there is a nice Cosi on 31st and Park with free WiFi). Sitting and eating my sandwich, I surfed Craigslist for new postings and came across an ad for a "Railroad 1 Bdrm" in Hell's Kitchen at 45th and 10th. (The apartment has retained it original detailed floors, high ceilings, commecial style kitchen, spacious rooms and unique French style bathroom arrangement.) I called the number and found out it was listed by a different broker at the same office as my broker(s). I then called Marcus and left him a message about seeing the place. I also called about another place having an open house that evening in the mid 50s near 3rd Ave. I told the lady that I would be there at six.

Fifteen minutes later, Marcus called me back, and said he got a showing for the Hells Kitchen place at 5:30, could I meet him there? I had a good feeling about this place, and felt it was worth the effort to get there, and skip the open house. (I did call her back and cancel.). I met Marcus a few minutes early, when I got there, he was on the phone with the other broker who was informing him that he was running late... 45 minutes late. Even though the building wasn't gonna win a beauty contest (see image above), I decided to wait it out, and Marcus agreed to wait with me. We hung out and chatted in the sun (He was a bit chilled), and waited.

Finally at about 6:30, the other broker was there as well as another person to look at the unit. Well, sadly it was a waste of time. The apartment was not a one bedroom, but a two room studio. And it also wasn't a railroad apartment (Well, it was when the building was built, but it was cut up into smaller units long ago). It had not retained it "original detailed floors", the "commercial style kitchen" meant that there were no cabinets, and the sink was a porcelain one from the 1920's, I never figured out what the "French style bathroom" meant, and spacious rooms and high ceilings are completely based upon an individuals perception.

Now, in NYC, for a room to be called a bedroom, it must possess three things; a door which closes it off from the rest of the home, a window in which you can obtain ventilation, and a closet. This two room sudio possessed all three of these things, but not in either of the rooms (in fact, the wall btwn the rooms was a more recent addition). The front room had windows, the back room (kitchen) had a closet, there was a door on the apartment. The deal breaker was that it on the first floor with garbage cans under the windows (the two windows on the left of the front door).

At that point I'd had enough. I was disappointed that I didn't get that first apartment, and I had seen enough dumps that I decided to call it a day.

Stay tuned, this saga is to be continued...