If It Seems Too Good To Be True, It Probably Is

Tuesday evening, 6:30. Beautiful prewar doorman building, 74th and Amsterdam. I loved the prewar, Art Deco doorman building with the Spanish fresco in the lobby. There was no view, except for other tenants’ windows, meaning the apartment was probably dark. I loved the giant wooden door to the apartment. I loved the white crown moldings next to the pale yellow paint. I loved the black and white kitchen floor, tiny as it was. There was no counter space in the kitchen area, but there was a black breakfast bar with black cushioned stools. I tried to ignore the bucket, which was catching a leak from somewhere. The bedroom was a nice size, and the walk in closet was out of a fairy tale. It was painted sky blue, with rainbows, flowers, birds, and cumulus clouds. A tiny crystal ball anchored the light pull. To enter the en-suite bathroom, you had to step up, an accident waiting to happen. I couldn’t trust myself to remember to step up, or down. “Who designed this bathroom, an orthopedic surgeon? I’ll never be able to have a cocktail or take cold medication. My health insurance isn’t good enough for this.” The spacious bathroom had a big window and sconce lighting, although the wiring looked ancient and the medicine cabinet was falling off the wall. “How much is the rent?” I asked. “$1,850.” “Why so little?” “It’s a co-op.” My lawyer friends warned me that if a building was a co-op, New York law would force me to move in 2 years. “What about the NY provision that states a co-op can only be rented for 2 years?” She looked stunned. She never heard of it. “I’ll ask the owner.” Like that matters. The owner will say anything to get the apartment rented. “I like it, but I wish there was a better view. Is there any light during the day?” Despite the flaws, for the first time, I was excited about an apartment. Had this been my first apartment, I would have taken it. Now that I had furniture and possessions, moving was a huge, expensive pain in the butt. I wanted to love my next apartment, and stay there for many years. I was cautiously optimistic. “There’s another unit in the building. I can’t get in there tonight, but on Saturday we can look at it, and see if the view is better. Also, we can return to this apartment to see if there is light.” “I’ll think about it. “