Friday, August 18, 2006

Not There

I spent a day with a real estate broker looking at apartments in New York City. He took me to an area where I specifically told him I had no interest in living, but then figured that at least I should look at many places so when I rejected any out of hand, I had research to back me up.

Some of the apartments were lovely, but midtown Manhattan was so...corporate. So, I knew that at night, people would leave and return to their homes wherever and I would be living in an area bereft of humans, and tumbleweeds would be tripping down the avenues...

One particular apartment was appalling. It was a 2-bedroom--good, so far-- but it was dark. Very, very dark. Except for the bedrooms, which had the only windows in the whole apartment. My broker thought it was perfect.

Broker (excitedly): Look at the size of the bedrooms. Look at how bright they are.
Alice (not excitedly): Yes, but look at the living room, kitchen and entrance. Look at how bright they are not!
Broker (rolling eyes): Bah! All you need to do is put in those standing halogen lamps and you'll get plenty of light!
Alice: And what about the bedrooms, huh? If I wanted to sleep in late, the light would prevent that.
Broker: You're silly! All you need to do is put those blackout shades on the windows and you solve that problem!

So, basically, I pay billions of dollars for an apartment where I then have to spend billions more for electricity in order to have light where I want it. And more money on shades to take away the light where I don't want it.

Oh, and outside the kitchen window there is a very small area with a table and two chairs. Broker was almost shrieking with happiness as he led me to the window.

Broker: LOOK. JUST LOOK. An outdoor spot to drink your morning coffee, or to have a romantic dinner. What do you think about that?

I looked but could not see a doorway leading out there.

Alice: But how does one get there?
Broker (giving me an are-you-that-dumb glance): You climb out the window, of course!
Alice: WHAT! But the window is over the sink.
Broker (happily): Yes. That makes it easier, doesn’t it?
Alice: Not to belabor the point, but this IS a neighborhood where I do not want to live in the first place, and don't get me started on how much it costs to rent. Then the apartment’s layout is so wrong, and finally one has to be a cat burglar in order to sit outside. So despite all these, um, undesirable attributes, you actually think that I should seriously consider this place?
Broker (in a very silky voice): What will it take for you to sign on the dotted line on this apartment?
Alice: Amnesia, despair, and just plain dumbness.