My husband and I are looking for a new apartment.
No, that’s not ours in the pic above. But we could still use an upgrade.
We want a real kitchen, a second bathroom, and a second bedroom for my office. (For some reason, Steven doesn’t love having my piles of papers and DVDs in the middle of the living room. ) Also, I want a perfect location like we have now. Tree-lined street, near subways, in or at least close to downtown — because I’m very “downtown.”
And open views, and light. Oh, and we’d both like ceilings that aren’t low enough for me to touch when I’m on tiptoe.
If you think that’s not so much to ask, you’ve never looked at NYC real estate.
From a first look at all the listings, it seems like an embarrassment of riches. But you’d know better if you were familiar with the standard code words. Here’s a quick guide to the euphemisms I’ve come to learn. NYC Real Estate, decoded:
Country cottage in the sky!
Oddly-painted shithole with warped floorboards and floral wallpaper the current owner wouldn’t paint over to sell the place. And, an elevator.
Urban oasis!
No light. Low floor. All rooms face an air shaft, or look over a courtyard and have picturesque views of garbage cans and electric generators. Maybe a crackhead or two, for extra “urban” flavor. They promise to keep quiet and respect your oasis.
Bring your sunglasses!
Lots of light. That’s a good thing, but if it doesn’t mention views, there are none. Count on a butt-ugly brick wall across the way. Not that it matters, because you brought your sunglasses. As long as they’re as dark as Stevie Wonder’s, you’ll never notice what’s out the window.
Bring your architect and make it yours! Unique opportunity to design your dream apartment!
This obviously means that the apartment is unlivable as is. But there are several forms of this.
1) Looks like a crack den. Or, like a haunted house created by a set designer. Water (or worse) stains on ceiling, peeling walls, rusty bathtub in middle of living room, cobwebs in doorways, zombie taking a shit in the bathroom.
2) Already renovated — per current owner’s “vision” — with bizarre, baffling angles. You’d be amazed by how many people design their home with a tiny, triangular master bedroom (who wants to sleep in a triangle?) and an ensuite jacuzzi the size of a backyard swimming pool. Clearly, these people like to party. Just not in the bedroom.
3) Old person’s apartment. You can tell someone died in there. The details provide a depressing narrative that will leave you sad. From the marbled-mirror dining area to the old, framed photos, yellowed bedspread, and toilet commode in the closet, it’s clear that the owner moved in during the 60s or 70s, never changed a thing in the apartment, lost a spouse, then lived for a decade with a visiting nurse. The apartment would sell better empty, with a fresh coat of paint, but the deceased owner’s children don’t have time to deal.
I saw one place with mauve lacquer built-ins and a platform bed on a base wrapped in carpeting. It looked like it had grown out of the carpeted floor. Or, to quote a friend, “like a giant scratching post for cats”.
Stairway to Heaven
No elevator. Duh. I saw one listing that had the chutzpah to advertise, “You’ll burn calories and melt fat on the way up to your 5th floor paradise.”
Location, location, location!
Shithole near park or some place people line up to get cupcakes.
Eat-in kitchen
If there is room for a chair and a soup spoon, brokers will call it “eat-in.”
Townhouse living in an apartment building!
Awkward, narrow layout on the first or second floor.
Full-service white glove co-op
Postwar building. You get a doorman and live-in super, but also low ceilings and lots of old people who moved in in 1962 when the building was new and they were already old. These are the folks who sit on the coop board and will reject your application because that’s the most fun they have in their retirement. It’s the city version of growing tomatoes.
Also, what’s so great about white gloves? Makes me think of a mime.
Separate office or nursery/ guest room
Tiny, interior room with no window. Who needs light or air when you’re typing or sucking a boob? And if you’re a mooching houseguest, who are you to complain? You want a window? Go stay in a hotel, you ungrateful freeloader.
Writer’s retreat
Bad, remote location. Writers don’t need to go anywhere. They just need to stare out the window wondering why they chose such a lonely career path.
Open House
There’s no catch here. Who doesn’t love an open house? All you have to do is sign in, with a fake name and email address if you want, and you’ve got PTS: Permission To Snoop. You can peek in closets, bounce on the beds, survey the prescription bottles, sniff the shoes…it’s nosy heaven. And you can just walk out when you’re done, calling “thank you!” to the broker. If there are other looky-loo’s poking around, you’re almost anonymous.
Oh wait, one catch: you could end up all alone with a super-creep broker.
This possibility wouldn’t occur to me if it hadn’t happened the other day. No one in the apartment but me, the realtor, and a silent, greasy-haired man who I’m guessing was his brother. The realtor didn’t get up much from his chair, but his eyes followed me around the apartment.
“That’s a California King in there, by the way,” he informed me as I came out of the bedroom. “You can do a lot of entertaining on one of those, if you know what I mean. Not that you would, ’cause you’re a good girl!” High-pitched giggle. Then: “You know, you could easily add an extra bedroom in here if you need to. Of course, that wouldn’t be my problem, ’cause I’m not procreating!”
I’m glad to hear it, sir.
Comment time!
Have you ever looked for new digs in NYC? Or anywhere? How’d that go? Did I leave anything out of my Decoder? Tell me in the comments.
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Wow, this brings back lots of memories. Not good ones, of course. I moved like 7 times in 9 years in NY. And I stayed in the last apartment, in Williamsburg, for 4 or 5 of those years. Because it was shabby and leaned a little and the landlady never fixed anything, but the location and price and space were incredible.
The Dept of Buildings is tearing it down now, because it turns out that a leaning apartment building is actually dangerous. Who knew. I’m actually sort of surprised it’s getting torn down before it destroyed itself somehow. I always wondered if it would be flood, fire or collapse that did it in. The pipes were leaking into the outer walls, and we had a dozen fire trucks there one night when the landlady tried to install her own gas stove and the live gas line snapped off inside the wall. I always kept my renter’s insurance up to date.
As usual, thanks for the laughs!
I just had a good laugh over drinks last weekend with my new roomy when she confessed that she was ripped off about 6 months ago by one of those ridiculous Craigslist ads that are the equivalent of: “Penthouse apartment on 83rd and Park for $300 a month. Owner just wants the right tenant while he is working as a volunteer Dr. in Africa.” Sad and funny! 😉
front of you because that may be the person you love and the perfect reason to not sit at home depressed. Here is I’m Alive from Next to Normal.
You’re spot on with you’re interpretation of NYC real estate speak. I’m looking for an apartment, and saw an “urban oasis” that was on the ground floor with windows that get no light. The windows faced a brick wall in a 4 foot alley with a fire escape that the broker said I could put a blanket down on and have a picnic with some candles. Oh yeah it also had an “eat in kitchen” that could barely fit a stool let alone a spoon.
You’ve just boosted my NYC apt-hunting spirits since I’m in the same boat as you but coming from the opposite coast. Totally excited about zombies, sloped floors, and water stains!
And thanks for schooling me on the term FOPA. I had no idea what it was and will now throw up in the bathroom next to the zombie since I have a wildly active imagination.
P.S. Wait for the iPhone 5 to come out in September. You’re welcome.
When I was leasing real estate for my company, my most famous add was “Best Little Warehouse in Minneapolis” and it wasn’t a lie.
Oh the ad writing business!
In Brooklyn, “Pratt Area” means, “in Brooklyn.” Love your work Miss Belgray. Mrs.?
Oh, well one time “unique 1920’s style bath” meant “no sink in the bathroom” – but the bathtub had those claw feet! COOOOOL! Too bad it was permanently yellow. And yea, did I mention there was no sink in the bathroom?
and I lived there with 2 friends (because it was cheap) for almost a year. Brushing your teeth in the kitchen sink never tasted so…
I don’t know how to finish it, let’s just leave it. Ok? Leave it.
Seriously. I’m warning you.
Fucking leave it, Laura!
Otherwise, you covered everything I could think of!
<3!
SMOOCHEZ
“zombie taking a shit in the bathroom” got me good.
Writing this before reading the rest because of uncontrollable giggles.
Ok I’ll carry on now.
<3
I do not miss those days… back in the day I lived in Brooklyn with a bathtub in the kitchen. It was called an artists haven…
A railroad super narrow, best part is I could roller blade from bedroom to kitchen/bathroom.
that was before brokers took over… hope you find a perfect home.
xo
Don’t forget “No-fee” means “this apartment doesn’t exist, but I’ll show you plenty of different options that involve cutting me a $4000 check for doing a 5 minute search on my computer.”
Which brings me to the big question: why does New York still have rental brokers when every other city in America gets along fine without middlemen scarfing up your 15%?
Laura – I did some digging and found out that Pauline is actually a lobbyist for R.E.B.F.T.P.O.L.R.E.P. (Real Estate Brokers For The Preservation Of Ludicrous Real Estate Prices).
I knew it! You wouldn’t believe how strong that lobby is. They have all the politicians, and apartments, in their pockets. Too bad they don’t have an acronym as punchy as FOPA.
Hate to say it, but it sounds like your budget didn’t match the neighborhood/area you wanted. No wonder you saw dumps. Owners aren’t giving apartments away. In fact, the prices have gone up quite a bit since last year. Also: not all brokers are sketchy. Ask for a referral and you’ll find a good one.
Really? You mean if I had more money to spend I could get something better? Hadn’t thought of that.
Oh, and I know awesome brokers. I never said they were all sketchy. We have one who’s a great friend and knows her business. But she herself said the market is all shit now.
Having just completed an apartment hunt, seeing over 30 apartments in 3 days because I was in from out of town, I have to say I loved this piece! One catch-phrase I think is missing is the 1 BR/Convert 2. Translation: you can put a bed in the living room with a curtain and live like you are still in college.
Thanks for the laughs.
Oh yes, the convertible! Or “Jr 2” Who wants a junior bedroom?
I just looked at the definitions of FOPA. I’m laughing so hard I think I’m going to have an asthma attack. I love your writing.
Thank you, Doug.
I wish I made up the word FOPA. I’d feel like I’d really contributed something to the world.
You’re hilarious. Thank you for introducing me to the word FOPA. xo, a fellow B schooler and copywriter.
Oh, you’re welcome! If I could reach one person with my FOPA message, it’s as though I reached a million. BTW, you should know that an alternative spelling is FUPA. (The U is for “upper”) But I prefer FOPA because of how it hangs over.
Ha! loved this. That zombie taking a shit in the bathroom is probably an example of real estate staging to impress potential buyers.
I think it was actually a virtual rendering. It really is easier to imagine living there when you see it furnished with the pooping zombie.
Luxury crack den oasis indeed — how absurd! What were they asking…
It was “priced to sell.” Rare opportunity and motivated seller!
Haven’t looked in a while…but I remember those days of looking in neighborhoods. Scary!
I must say the Stairway to Heaven was a great marketing tactic. Hit those people who want to lose weight or exercise where it hurts!!! You should’ve given the ad to the broker.
I agree: it is audacious, but smart. What it doesn’t mention is that if you buy it, you’ll become a shut-in just to avoid going up and down the stairs. You’ll have everything delivered and get so fat that you need a special washing stick.
You mean you weren’t inspired to make a purchase after hearing about the entertainment value of the California King? I’ve never hunted for a home in NYC, but have bought three places over the years, and have been happy with each one. My suggestion is, keep looking til you find the right place. Be patient, see it as a game with bonus snooping rights, and enjoy the ride. The right place will make itself known.
I actually did submit a bid on the California King. Just the mattress. Waiting to hear back from the board.
I read the other day that patience is one of the top ten common traits of successful people, so I’ll try and heed your advice.
Absolutely hysterical writing. Everything somebody not from NYC imagines apartment hunting there would be like. Great imagery, especially the creepy brother in the last apartment. The only experience I’ve ever had that would come close would be my encounters with buying a new car and slimy car dealers.
Thanks, Nancy. Your car dealers might have been creepy, but their physique would be no match for this guy’s. His FOPA wouldn’t fit in anything smaller than a flatbed truck.
One place I looked at to rent (my first choice) on the UWS had crazy sloping floors. I’m clumsy on level floors so I had to move to my second choice on the UES. It also had ugly kitchen tile. But I spent my whole time living in NY wondering how my life would have been different on the west side.
I think you made the right choice. It’s been a long time since the UWS was cool and “funky” enough to warrant living with dangerously sloping floors. What, you wanna risk breaking your neck just to live near another Gymboree?
Hysterical. Hasn’t changed at all since the late 70s. NYC is glorious (especially real estate) yet a minefield of irony. Love it hate it. Would return in a minute if not for the RE issues!
FOPA – preventative crunches today- LOL
No, hasn’t changed at all. Except that in the late 70s, you could get a classic 8 on Park Ave for what now buys a Subaru Hatchback.
My understanding (from various astrologers and psychics) is that we’re just around the corner from a major economic crisis that will have a significant impact on current real estate prices, so you soon may be able to afford the apartment you really want. But, of course, if you need to sell an apartment at the same time, this probably won’t do you much good. So, never mind.
Can you ask your palm readers what day we should put our place on the market, and also, whether I should wait for the next generation of iphone or just get a new one now?
We just got done looking for apartments, and found a really good deal, after sifting through a lot of overpriced crap. I think my absolute favorite out of all of them was the phrase “minutes from downtown!”. You’ll note they never specified HOW many minutes. Of course, then there was the place we went to that had rotted floorboards under the carpet and some kind of larvae hanging out in the toilet.
Apartment hunting, always an adventure!
It should say: “Minutes from getting intestinal worms!”
I agree, never says how many minutes or by what mode: on foot, or on the Concorde?
Would it in any way denigrate your writing skills to say that “zombie taking a shit in the bathroom” may be the most perfect thing you have ever written?
Exquisite in its economy. Vivid visual. (Alliterative appreciation.)
No, my writing skills would be flattered. I always plant one exquisite gem for the very smartest readers to notice and appreciate in a way no one else can. I’m glad you can picture the shitting zombie. My job is done.