My lease is up on July 1st. It’s June 22nd. Do I have a place to live? No. No I don’t. Is it from a lack of trying? Good lord no.
Myself and my roommate (Brooklyn Skeptic contributor ChezJJP) are two employed twenty-six-year olds. We live in a nice place in Park Slope in Brooklyn. Our landlady likes us, and sweetly told us that she didn’t want us to leave because we were such good tenants. We pay our rent on time. We have a combined income of over $80,000 a year. We’re handsome and polite. We give great massages. We floss. So why the fuck is it so hard for us to find an apartment?
Because New York is a cruel, overpopulated den of deception and chaos located several floors below the seventh layer of hell.
This is not the New York from the show Friends, where the characters live in huge, beautifully decorated apartments in lower Manhattan, paying the rent with the money they make being failed actors, waitresses and whatever the hell the weird one did. This is the New York where you have trouble getting an apartment in Red Hook (twenty minutes from a shitty subway which won’t even be running soon!) when you are the first person to see it and immediately ask to fill out an application. This is the New York where you see an apartment you like in Williamsburg and are so desperate to move in that you agree to give the landlord an $1800 deposit despite the fact that none of the light fixtures work and half of the apartment is flooded. This is the New York that turns you into a desperate, whorish shadow of the man you once saw in the mirror.
And apparently, this is the New York that makes you state the obvious in an effort to vent your frustrations. Clearly, if you live in New York, you’ve probably been through apartment searching hell (or you haven’t, in which case, you’re a jerk) and none of this is particularly eye-opening to you. But Jesus Christ! Who do you have to blow to pay too much to live in a cramped apartment in an already over-priced city???
Anyway, you’d better solve this problem for me, reader. Find me an apartment, pronto. Or else, you never know, I might move in with you and we’ll have a little You, Me and Dupree situation going on. And you don’t want that. Because that movie sucked.