The Search

Well, after a few snow days, it is back to school time. *sigh of relief* But, of course, until it is full swing of learning again, I have been trying to do some extra stuff.

I try to look over the real estate available in New York each day, just to get an idea of what area will destroy me financially the least. I think I have a job there, so that helps, but it kills me to think of the rent when I start to glance at the listings. So, imagine my surprise today at the listing for a one bedroom in Manhattan for $229. Yeah. I am trying to figure out what the stipulation is to that. Do I dress up in a cat suit and pretend to be someone's pet and they give me a pillowy bed to curl up on in the corner? Do I get 7 strangers to live in a loft? Do I get the boiler room as long as I am up to some repairs?

It made me realize that unless it is hideously overpriced, I do not trust it. Given, the 229 has got to be a misprint, but even at $650, my mind pictures the chalk outline I may have to decorate around in the living room.

I have started looking in advance though as I know my last experience with living out there. When I did find the perfect place, the family then decided to stay. First for a month, then two...it was like holding a lottery ticket every month waiting to see if I could move in. I finally gave up. They won. And now, I start the quest early to avoid the pain. Keeping those options open less I live in a hotel for two months.

My very favorite part of looking however was the "open house" on one particular place. The realty company said they had the perfect two bedroom. It was okay as apartments go, but I couldn't help but notice the absence of that second bedroom. When I asked, the realtor quickly opened the closet door in the bedroom.

Now, I can't lie, I would have probably been more thrilled at the idea of a walk-in closet than the second bedroom, but this was a new tactic for me in trying to be looped in to signing a lease. There it was, a closet. You could see the spackle from where the clothing rack once was. No bed would have fit, perhaps a cot, but it was ......a closet. I may have done the same thing to a visiting friend, said, "Here, this is your room." But hell, that would just be for entertainment purposes.

I said, point blank, "this is a closet."

"No, this is a bedroom," replied the realtor.

I always love that moment. That time in which someone is saying some utter bullshit to you, but is so calm and direct, that he/she is unwaivering in the statement of fact. They know you know, but without the assistance of time travel, it is impossible to argue. I can't PROVE it is a closet. Shoot, why not argue that it is a pet playroom? A cozy study? A breakfast nook? The darkroom? Have some fun with it. It really doesn't matter what we call it because in the end, I could do whatever I choose with this space, but it will still be my revamped closet.

So I look, each day, hoping to find my 1 bedroom with a closet. Or whatever you wanna call it.