For some reason I cannot remember to take pictures of viewed apartments. I'll tie a string round my finger from now on, promise.
Hell's Kitchen, 225 sq. ft. studio, $1400: With some brokers, it's like they maybe don't have too many friends or something. 'Cause even though I would rather work out our appointment over email, this guy insists we speak on the phone. For like a good 10 minutes. The apartment is on Ninth Avenue, but really it's in a building behind the building on Ninth Avenue. You walk through the first building hallway and then into a courtyard where everyone throws their trash, and then into your building. Apartment is incredibly small but cute; current tenant implies there might be a slight roach problem. Seems slightly sunlight-deprived. A no. Makes me slightly happy, since could admittedly not afford this much rent anyhow.
Park Slope real estate office No. 1: OK, I know what you're thinking, Park Slope?! You're not having a baby! Yes, but I promised myself I'd look outside of Manhattan, and besides, PS brokers have listings for places like Cobble Hill and Carroll Gardens. And I was in the neighborhood. But this broker, like every broker I have ever met in Park Slope, implied that I could not afford to live in their precious little community and tried to send me to Kensington, which she described as "getting groovy." Like three times. I tell her that I have been meaning to go to Vox Pop but that I think Kensington might be too far of a daily commute.
Park Slope real estate office No. 2: Filled out form. Uneventful.
Craigslist: Have emailed at least 30 different postings; have heard back from maybe four or five. I might actually have to start calling people and talking to them on the phone. Ugh.
Monday, August 20, 2007
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