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July 15, 2002
Something's A Loft I
Something's A Loft
I have decided to partake of a typical New Yorkers favorite hobby; apartment hunting. This little distraction has been a long time in coming. For weeks now I have religiously perused Craig's List for the latest great deals in the area. The problem has been I am a little vague on all areas that aren't Weehawken, and Manhattan. I know nothing about Queens and Brooklyn but I am very curious. When I am ready to move I will most likely move to either Queens or Brooklyn. I want to be able to take the subway anywhere. And if I need to take a cab home it would be nice if it cost less than $30 plus toll and tip. So last Thursday I decided to bite the bullet. I was tired as I had been up all night before at the Amma-fest but I was in amazingly good spirits and looked forward to the adventure. And an adventure it was.
I emailed a guy, "sebastian" whose real name is Mike, about a loft he had available in Williamsburg, Brooklyn for the low low price of $1600. It was a two bedroom and that is a pretty good price for a loft. So that would make rent $800/ month per roommate. It might hurt a little but still it was very doable. I could see the apartment that night. After work I made a hasty stop to Virgin Records for a cd with Starland Vocal Band's "Afternoon Delight" and then I was off on the "L" to Williamsburg. This loft was on the 7th stop in Brooklyn- Jefferson Avenue. That seemed a little far out from Manhattan to be considered Williamsburg but that was okay. I wasn't invested in this place; I was simply on an adventure. So I get off the subway at Jeffferson which only took about 20 minutes from Union Square. Not bad at all. When I emerge from the depths, I find myself in the middle of a very industrial area. Lots of warehouses. I can see no evidence of the quaint little shops and restaurants that most people associate with Williamsburg. I remind myself that I am looking at a loft and that of course it would be in the industrial part of town. It's still daylight so what could happen?
As I follow the directions given me by "sebastian whose real name is Mike" I say a silent thank you that I had the forethought to give two people the name of the person I was meeting and the address. That way if the worst happened the police would know where to start. I walk down to the corner and take a left. One block more and then a right. I notice there is a lot of graffiti on the buildings and broken glass on the sidewalk. As I walk down the next street I notice two distinct things. The first is a huge building with a sign written partly in Chinese and partly in English, "Chinese Produce Distributors". Next to the sign I could see through a gate which opened into the back of the building. Through this gate I could see no evidence whatsoever of produce distribution. I did see rows upon rows of the shells of banged and beat up cars. Cars which were stacked upon each other like Legos in towers that were striving to reach the sky. I immediately think, "Hmm. I could move into a loft and have the Chinese Mafia as neighbors." And still I trudge on towards the second thing I notice- a man standing on the passenger side of his parked car. He is leaning inside the car from the waist up. The hood is up and there are cables connecting the car to a van in front of it. I notice that the window through which the man is leaning is not rolled down it is cracked open and there are broken glass pebbles on the ground. (It doesn't occur to me until I am safely ensconced in my own abode that the car might not have actually belonged to the guy that was halfway inside it.) Another dubious sign of the neighborhood. I finally get to the door of my potential new loft. There is a buzzer system on the the side of the door, but the door is so loosely associated with the building that a buzzer system hardly seems necessary. Still, I go through the ritual of ringing the buzzer and waiting for the familiar buzz of permission to enter. I walk up the four floors and into the cutest little loft apartment a girl could hope for. One wall was waist-level to ceiling windows with a gorgeous view of the city I love so much. The ceiling was at least 15 feet up. Mike, whose email name is sebastian, formed the space from a whole in the wall. He built two bedrooms with lofts big enough to hold queen size beds. There was a simple bathroom, an open living area/kitchen and those gorgeous windows. There was an aluminum roof from the next-door building that could be accessed one floor down from the cutest little loft ever. I walked back toward the subway determined to find a way to put myself and my beloved cat into this loft.
I decided to walk around the area and get a feel for the neighborhood. As I found my way to the subway the Chinese Mafia hangout and the vandalized car didn't seem near as daunting as my arrival trip. I met a lovely girl who was walking out of the subway who graciously showed me where the big grocery store was as she was walking home. The street on which we walked had a partially constructed park on one side and rows upon rows of dilapidated brownstones. Puerto Rican flags flew ouside a couple of the windows and my original unease returned. I couldn't help but think of the shameful way a select group of Puerto Ricans acted at the P.R. Day parade a few years back. Still I wanted to see the grocery store. There were a number of men working on their cars on this block. Noone was overly friendly nor were they belligerent. The nice girl crossed the street to go to her house as I could see the grocery store a half block up.
As I continued my walk I barely noticed a man facing a big tree near the sidewalk. His back was to me and I didn't take much notice until I got closer. As he turned away from the tree, he almost ran into me. He was zipping up his pants; he had been, er, relieving himself. When he noticed me, before actually running into me, he said something in Spanish and then mumbled a sheepish, "Sorry". At least he was polite. In the end, I decided to keep looking. I have just barely taken up my new hobby. I am not about to muddy it up by actually moving. That loft was gorgeous though.
It's So Big!
Another reason I am loathe to move: the closet is finally under way. That's right. My stuff is once again cluttering up the living room. The difference is this time there is a skeleton of a closet in my room and the door is no longer from the living room but from the hallway. The carpenter should be finished by Wednesday! Oh Joy! Oh Rapture! I am thrilled. And this closet is really huge too. I am so looking forward to taking advantage of my new stowage factor.
Posted by mermu at July 15, 2002 01:08 AM
Comments
Meredith, I am glad you are getting a new closet. I like the thought that you are living in a relatively safe neighborhood, compared to the one with the gorgeous loft offered by Sebastian whose real name is Mike.
Posted by: mom (aka Rita) at July 16, 2002 07:49 PM
What's the estimated deadline for completed closet? Or are you even bothering to ask for one knowing that whatever date they give you, they are most like pulling it out of the bohinny?
Posted by: Jfer at July 15, 2002 06:53 PM
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