The Search Continues. . .

virgo/ cheryl, A chance to shift gears and embark on a journey is upon you. Your current responsibilities should not deter you from embracing this opportunity. This excursion will expand your experience and, if possible, should not be turned down. “Hi, it’s your broker. Sorry I missed the meeting. I wasn’t feeling well. I’m glad you went. An apartment is available in the building next to me, it’s not yet on the market. I thought of you. . .” My vacation ended, but not my desire to find an apartment. I called her back and arranged to meet her at 8:45 on Saturday morning, in front of the building. I woke up early on Saturday, and ran 5 blocks to catch the crosstown bus. I didn’t want to keep her waiting. 8:45 came and went, with no sign of her. I decided to call her. It would have been nice if I’d remembered to turn on my cell phone yesterday. “Sorry I can’t meet you in the morning, I couldn’t get the key. Please call me.” Oh,crap. I called her, and we agreed to meet at 9:30. I killed the 45 minutes in Zabars. I managed to find the most expensive chai tea ever made. For $12.50 this tea should fly me around the city on a magic carpet. We finally entered the apartment after walking through another trash filled entryway. There was a small brown kitchen to the left, as soon as we got through the door. No dishwasher or microwave, even less counter space than my doll sized kitchen. Directly across from the kitchen was a powder room consisting of a sink, small mirror, and toilet with plunger. Nothing like having the opportunity to spray fecal matter from the powder room into the kitchen. Eww. As if. The living area was small with a tiny closet, but had good light. It had a real staircase, with industrial type carpet so hideous that even Helen Keller would find it offensive. Upstairs, beautiful white French doors led to a small bedroom. A tiny balcony outside the bedroom attached to the adjoining balcony provided uncomfortable proximity to neighbors. A four by four indentation in the in the wall masqueraded as a closet. The bathroom was large and well appointed, but windowless, dark and gloomy. “I’m a klutz, I don’t like to climb steps.” “You won’t have to go to the gym. You have a built in Stairmaster.” “I love the French doors and location but I need more closet space. If I rid myself of all possessions or join a nudist camp, I’ll reconsider.”