Tribeca
West Village
Upper East Side
Red Hook
Midtown
With a few months and change until my lease is up, I have begun to mentally prepare for the New York City real estate battleground. It's going to take strategic planning, expert timing and let's face it: luck. My current place was a straight trade. He need a new roomie, we need more space. For our sublet, he had to get NYCM to take our application. We were set: the french doors, gorgeous hardwood floors and private back yard. It seemed to be a paradox-
After a few months, I became completely disenchanted with my alleged fillet of the neighborhood- roaches and resident mouse aside (an issue that the weekly exterminator couldn't seem to combat)...The bathtub that doesn't need a stopper, was there ever a smoke detector? The AC has been installed with...duct tape? The three legged fridge (read: leaning tower of Pisa) and how is it that the ceiling is leaking into the bedroom...Don't even get me started on the closet. Perhaps the crowning moment: coming home from vacation to discover that we are without power.
A short investigation revealed that we were in fact, the only apartment in the building suffering this blackout. With thirty minutes to unpack and return the rental car to Union Square, we scrambled to call our Super, Julio.
-Twenty-five minutes later- We spotted Julio stumbling up the Slope towards our stoop. He revealed an alcohol sting of a smile, and lead us to the control room. Julio's expertise led him to flick at random switches- turning various neighbor's power on-and-off. We corrected with waving hands and pleading.
Julio did eventually remedy our situation. It was quite the anomaly.
After a few months, I became completely disenchanted with my alleged fillet of the neighborhood- roaches and resident mouse aside (an issue that the weekly exterminator couldn't seem to combat)...The bathtub that doesn't need a stopper, was there ever a smoke detector? The AC has been installed with...duct tape? The three legged fridge (read: leaning tower of Pisa) and how is it that the ceiling is leaking into the bedroom...Don't even get me started on the closet. Perhaps the crowning moment: coming home from vacation to discover that we are without power.
A short investigation revealed that we were in fact, the only apartment in the building suffering this blackout. With thirty minutes to unpack and return the rental car to Union Square, we scrambled to call our Super, Julio.
-Twenty-five minutes later- We spotted Julio stumbling up the Slope towards our stoop. He revealed an alcohol sting of a smile, and lead us to the control room. Julio's expertise led him to flick at random switches- turning various neighbor's power on-and-off. We corrected with waving hands and pleading.
Julio did eventually remedy our situation. It was quite the anomaly.
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