The Apartment Hunting Chronicles Episode Two: I Officially Hate Everybody

Its not so much that apartment hunting makes me want to kick small puppies, its more the liars. LIARS make me want to kick puppies and if you find yours suddenly bruised, I am not liable for any emotional or physical damages.

In episode one, we discussed the ads. The craigslist ads for apartments. Craig and his silly bitch list for liars. And, for reasons still undisclosed, that’s pretty much as far as I got the first time around. This time though, its serious.

The problem with New York, that I believe is more so exaggerated than anywhere else, (although DC may come in at a close second) is that unless you are a grillionaire playboy, theres no such thing as a good apartment in a good area. If you’re lucky (for those of you paying attention- I’m not), an average person can mayyyyyybe find an okay apartment in an okay area. But usually, the way it works is you can move into shitty, closet-like amenities in a great area or an amazing fantastic apartment across the street from the projects (not an exaggeration, the forerunner on my list right now is literally across the street from state subsidized projects- but the apartment is beautiful).

So really, I guess its not a huge shock that all the legitimate ads are a little exaggerated. And, it might not be really lying, but more the kind of lying that you start to believe because you have to for your own sanity. Lies such as, “its not a bad area, it just has a lot of local color!” orrrr “my exboyfriend is clearly only dating her because she is exactly like me, how pathetic” orrr “at the end of the day, Hurricane Katrina was a great learning experience”. You know, the kind of shit that gets you through the night.

When all is said and done however, I’d like a little heads up before hitting the worst streets of NYC, checking directions on my Iphone and toting a designer bag. All of the apartments I am looking at are sort of on the border of good and evil, and it would be nice to get a “don’t come alone after dark” orrrr a “btw, when I say its close to the train station, I mean it’s a fifteen minute uphill walk through Spanish Harlem”. I’ll concede that might be too much to ask for, seeing as I’ve lived in proximity to NYC nearly all of my life and should know better. Fine.

The shit that really pisses me off is when I get to the top of the hill and finally meet the person, suddenly everything changes. The rent listed on the ad was for the first month only- after that it increases by $200. The only utility included is water (WTF people, EVERY APARTMENT includes water in their rent). The room includes a closet- its just in the hall on the other side of the apartment. The room is furnished- with a 15 year old futon on a metal frame. The 20 year old female who will be showing the place? Whoops, I meant 35 year old man. What a crazy typo. Or the people who just don’t show up. FUCK YOU PEOPLE WHO DON’T SHOW UP. I could be at home watching spongebob instead of standing on a street corner in Bushwick, watching cars with tinted windows roll slooooowly by me.

Its all sort of comical I guess, unless its you dragging your sorry ass up to these great apts in terrible areas after a lonnnnnnng day at work, expecting to meet a nice musician named Anne (25, from long island) and instead its her 40 year old LIVE-IN boyfriend holding their pet ferret (ew) showing you a room that is smaller than my creepy, dead-child storing closet in my apt in New Orleans (Note to reader: WE didn’t store the dead children, we’re just pretty sure that’s the only thing it could have possibly been used for prior to our moving in).

So, moral of the story is, never grow up. If you do grow up- live at home forever or kill yourself before you have to move out. Or hire a broker to do your dirty work for you (please note, this requires making much more money than I make). Or don’t ever move to NY. Or, make friends who will move with you instead of forcing yourself to make awkward small talk with a 40 year old holding a ferret who you KNOW you will never ever move in with.

And the sad part? I am really keeping my fingers crossed for that place across from the projects? Other than the whole “dangerous, impoverished neighbors” thing, it’s a great place with a really sweet roommate.

The sadder part? I have FOUR more appointments tonight. Oy vey.