Most people are aware that when I moved to NY, I moved into a temp housing building (see my first post for more info). The difference between now and then is that I’m actually living here now, and I want to feel at home and be able to have guests over whenever I please, and cook in a kitchen, and have a decent wi-fi connection…the list goes on and on.
Well on my first day at my new job, I met a girl who felt the need to share with the entire world that she too was staying at the Webster. Me, eager to make connections with everyone, let her know who I was, and that I was staying in the same building too. That night at dinner, we chatted for a few hours, and I felt as though we hit it off; she’s definitely a sweet girl and from first impression, I got a good vibe from her. The next day, she, eager to get her own place, was going to meet with a broker and was too nervous to go alone. So again, eager to make a friend, I offered to go with her. We walk into the broker’s office and there are just rows upon rows of desks, each with an agent waiting to collect their fifteen percent broker’s fee. We sit down, and the woman began asking my new acquaintance what her preferences were, where she wanted her apartment to be, if she had any pets…then she paused. “Why haven’t the two of you thought about rooming together?” she asked. “You guys would save so much money and would be able to score a really nice place.” We looked at each other, and I said that I would be open to looking if she was. After all, we worked together, we had similar backgrounds, and it would save me money…so why not? It didn’t hurt to look, right?
So we were off, wandering around Manhattan, until we arrived at this two-level apartment. Walking in, I no longer felt like I was in Midtown, and instead I was in a hip DC apartment with a patio and backyard. My new acquaintance decided that this was the apartment that she had waited her whole life to have, and that it had to be hers. Sure, having a two bedroom/two bathroom apartment in the city was a rare find, but I would’ve had to go out of my budget to live there. The primary difference between her and I is that when I moved out of my parents’ house, I had the intent of providing for myself and not to go back to them in need of financial help except in dire situations. She, on the other hand, had mommy and daddy in her back pocket and she was all up in their wallet.
After practically begging me to apply for the apartment, I had to make it known several times to her that going out of my budget was not something I was going to do. So why did she then ask me to “sleep on it”? Strike one.
The next day, we go to see another broker in search of the perfect two bedroom apartment. This time around, the office looked sooooooooooo sketchy (if you’re in the city and looking for a place, DO NOT go to BestApartments). There were no real desks, but instead, these agents had folding tables. And our broker looked like one of Snooki’s rejected gorilla juice heads. What this girl failed to realize is that you cannot buy an apartment in NYC without doing research on the broker you are potentially going to use. Clearly, she did no research before bringing me along to meet this guy. Strike two.
Regardless, this guy promised to find us a place we would both love, and to my surprise, he did. An apartment in our price range, with new appliances, situated nicely on West 51st street. So we go back to his office, submit our application, our application fee, along with our checks for the first month’s rent. He told us that our checks would NOT be cashed until we were approved for the apartment, and even so he would call before cashing. Cool.
Friday night comes along, and naturally before going out to buy overpriced city drinks, I check my bank account…$1,400 is gone. So I text our broker (he doesn’t like being called…also sketchy) and ask him what’s going on with the apartment and why he didn’t notify me before cashing my check. He says he doesn’t know. Period. He. Doesn’t. Know. Where. My. Fourteen. Hundred. Dollars. Is. Strike Three.
At that very moment, I “kindly” let him know that I would no longer be working with him and that he was extremely unprofessional, shady, and untrustworthy. So later that day I let my former potential roommate know that I would no longer be looking at apartments with her, and I went to go pick up my check.
Yes, I left out some other crazy unprofessional Best Apartments details…and if you’re interested, you can ask and I’ll gladly tell you. But long story short, I don’t want a roommate. I don’t want to work with shady brokers. And looking for a nice place in the city is one of the hardest things you will ever do in life.