The Great Apartment Hunt - Part 1

Part 1

Few things in life are as absolutely terrible as trying to find an apartment in New York City. When I first moved here, I found a place to sublet through a friend and figured I could find an apartment easily and quickly when the time called for it. I couldn't have been further from the truth.

Luckily my old college roommate, Dan, was working in the city and living at home like a cool kid with his parents in New Jersey, so I shot him an email asking if he'd like to find a place in Manhattan. "I'm in" he responded, so the search began.

2 weeks later, I found myself scouring the blocks of the East Village with Dan, trying to meet up with Fuki - the broker who would be showing us some apartments. It's funny because you go on craigslist to find "no fee" apartments (aka you don't have to pay a broker) and yet somehow, like a magical unicorn on acid, the broker appears from behind a curtain as if to say, "SURPRISE! You thought you could get this apartment but guess what...you have to go through ME!" And so try as I might to find a place on my own, I just couldn't do it with the short time frame I had. This is how we met Fuki - our Japanese broker who looked like she was no older than 12 and had self admittedly been living in NYC for only 10 months. And this was the girl that would be showing me places to live?

"Herro Andre nice to meeta you! My name is FUKI!!" she said excitedly, as she hurried out from behind a pilar of the Duane Reade in the East Village. She was wearing a sparkly white baret, hello kitty gloves, a white fluffy coat and black boots with furry pom-poms dangling off the back. "Perfect!" I said to her as she approached. "Dan LOVES Hello Kitty so I think we'll get along just marvelously" - all the while staring at her Hello Kitty pink mittens. "Oh rearry!?" she giggled shyly, "Isa da best!" she said as she clapped her mittens together frantically. Dan shot me a glance and just nodded in confused agreement.

As we walked around the East Village in search of some magical place that both of us could afford without having to live with rats or roaches, it became pretty clear that Fuki had no idea where she was going. In fact, it became my job to essentially lead us from one place to another for the span of almost 2.5 hours.

The first place she showed us resembled some sort of crackhouse section 8 housing with dilapidated walls and creaky stairs. In fact I could have sworn I saw rats larger than a chihuahua staring at me as I made my way up the stairs, as if to say "What the fuck do you want?" Before opening the door to the first apartment, Fuki struggled with the keys and before long, was throwing her tiny Asian body voilently against the door in an effort to get it open. I took the keys from her and opened the door, as I noticed she was attempting to use the mailbox key. She entered and frantically searched for a light. Turns out the apartment had no lights, so I had to use my flashlight app on my iPhone to examine the place. "Dis very pretty place - FABUROUS location Andre and Dan" Fuki said, in a strangely genuine tone. "Yeah, it's great...." I responded sarcastically, as Dan clutched his pearls in the corner mouthing the words "Let's get the fuck out of here" to me. The next apartment luckily had lights, but as we walked in I noticed that the kitchen was completely slanted. Had I tried to pick Fuki up and place her on the counter, she would have slid right off and giggled on her way down. "It give apartment CHAWECHTER!" she replied when I brought it up. Charecter? For $3,000/month? The pantree had been made into the smallest bathroom I had ever seen with only room for a toilet and tiny shower. No sink. "Where do we brush our teeth?" I asked Fuki. "Ina da kitchen sink sillyyyyy!" she said, completely serious and enthusiastic.

The saddest part was that Dan and I had seen so many other apartments by this point, that we had actually considered taking this dump. "Well I guess I could live with having to brush my teeth on top of dirty dishes if I had to" Dan said to me. "I'll just learn to maneuver my way around"
It's sad how New York City can so quickly change your perception on what is an acceptable living situation. For $3,000/month I could buy a luxury mansion in Texas but in New York, all it would get me was a slanted kitchen and perhaps a homeless man squatting in the corner of my apartment, holding a flashlight and wearing a lampshade on his head as replacement for real light. And that would bump up the price of the apartment by at least $200. You know, because it gives the place more "charecter". Exposed wires and asbestos? That'll be an extra $500 amenity fee, please.

This couldn't be, I thought to myself. There has to be better places for cheaper somewhere. 2.5 hours and 7 apartments later, Dan and I found ourselves walking towards Alphabet City with Fuki. After about 20 minutes of walking and talking, I turned to Fuki and asked, "Where are you taking us?! Why is this next apartment so much further from the others?!" Without a blink of an eye, Fuki replied "What you mean?! I thought we goin out summawhere!" WHAT? I was so confused. Apparently Fuki thought that after our apartment search, Dan and I would be wining and dining her and, with any luck, writing her a nice check for one of the apartments she showed. That way she could go back to Tokyo for the holidays and buy more custom-made mittens. I felt like screaming "Listen you crazy little Pikachu, I've just seen some of the worst and most expensive shithole apartments in New York, I think it's a wrap here." But instead, I decided to be a gentleman and walk Fuki to the nearest train station to send her on her way.

And feeling more defeated than ever before, I said bye to Dan and walked myself home as it began to rain. All the while hoping and praying that the right place would somehow magically turn up.

And eventually, it did.

Looking Back

It's been a stressful few months adjusting in New York, finding an apartment, making friends, starting a new job and, essentially, starting a new life. No doubt I've been frustrated and have felt defeated at times, but I stumbled across this entry I made on the "Notes" section of my iPad right before leaving DC and thought I'd share it and keep it someplace public. A place where I can constantly remind myself and anyone else that sometimes amidst the chaos, you lose sight of the clarity that once existed - and how important it is to get it back...

Today I opened my closet, staring in awe at the daunting task of choosing what I'd be taking with me when I move to New York. At some level, the feeling of packing is familiar to me from all my travels. Except this time, I know it's more permanent. I've spent the last few days wondering what lies ahead, if I've made the right decision, if I'll be happy living on my own in a new city and making new friends. While my days have been riddled with surges of overwhelming anxiety, I can't help but be excited for what lies ahead. I know the transition will be far from smooth, but I'm confident in the fact that I've made it this far. My dreams of starting over in a new city doing something I love seem to be coming true, and yet I can't help but be reluctant to embrace it. It's as though I've lived my life, and most of my 20's, settling for unhappiness and mediocrity. And now, now that I'm finally at a place where I'm satisfied and happy, it feels difficult to embrace it. These past few years I had managed to completely forget what happiness felt like. And now that its back and stronger than ever, my logical side seems apprehensive of existing with this happiness - as though there's no room for it. So I've made a conscious decision to make room and enjoy my moment, because it's something I've worked long and hard for. And while my nerves and fears may try to get in the way, I know my anticipation for the greatness that lies ahead trumps it all.

But it's hard to believe my last day in DC is here. It's bittersweet because I'm leaving behind my friends and family and everything that is familiar, yet I know this is something that is good for me. It's time I grow up, move on, and turn to the next chapter of my life. And the best part is that aside from the ups and downs, I can leave my home, my job, and my friends knowing I have absolutely no regrets. And the most satisfying feeling on earth is knowing I'm pursuing what I knew was deep down inside me all along. I'll never look back now and think, "Why didn't I go? Why was I so scared?". I'm terrified, but I'm embracing the fear in hopes of the beauty and excitement that lies just beyond it. But through all of this, I've learned that relationships are important. Not just the ones you have with your friends and family, but especially the one you have with yourself. I never knew how to listen to my own voice, my own desires. Too often the sound of my own dreams was muffled by the opinions and persuasions of others. And while the search was long and difficult, I found my own voice once again. And this time, I listened.