All New York conversations eventually turn to Real Estate. It usually comes before the weather, but after you’ve bragged about that new restaurant find. You know, that cool and cute little Thai place that will eventually get too crowded, become uncool, get more expensive, and dwindle in culinary quality? We’re all about Real Estate because most of us are always moving. Either it’s because our rent for that one-bedroom with the one-ass kitchen has been hiked to $2600, or the neighborhood changes beneath your feet and it no longer holds the same appeal. The Scene. Case in point, chain stores in the East Village (you’re DEAD to me, East Village) or the Trust Fund Ghetto that has become Williamsburg, Brooklyn (I didn’t have enough ironic t-shirts). I don’t know whether to think of The New York Apartment as a natural resource or an 80-year old prostitute. We’re always on the prowl for the new up-and-coming neighborhood, building, or rent-stabilized unit. The latter is more akin to a Sasquatch, White Whale, and endangered species all rolled up into one.
There are very few native New Yorkers in New York so perhaps we’re transient by nature - molting our apartments like crustaceans. Hoping the landlords have paid to paint our new shells. There’s no real sense of home with fond bygone memories. Nothing invested because you’re a lifelong renter. So we scuttle from place to place and it’s never easy. We put ourselves through the misery of moving, often several times per decade or more. It could be the square footage, but you’ll just buy more stuff and need more space later. You may love the view, but chances are a luxury monolith will stymie your skyline vista eventually. Aesthetics? They got those marble countertops at Home Depot just like everyone else - why have that translate to more rent? Schools? If you’re really concerned about education, you’re either moving to the suburbs or staying in the city and forking out kindergarten tuition. Wouldn’t it be nice if that phrase was an oxymoron?
We all have our methods and tricks to the moving madness. Some go to Craigslist.org, the New York Bible. Bonus: Our Bible has used furniture and casual encounter sections. Jealous? Others enlist scads of brokers to pounce on vacancies and show them like a proud kitty with a dead mouse. Though when I say the word ‘broker’, I usually spit on the ground to get the taste out. But that’s just me right? There are lotteries you can apply for and sweat through. Maybe your name will come up you’ll get that condo in the newly gentrified neighborhood. I hear South Harlem is being called SoHa in Real Estate circles. Too. Damn. Funny.
We have a symbiotic relationship with our city. It moves and we counter. Long after the spread has reached far and wide and the latest opulent high-rise looms twenty feet from JFK airport, New Yorkers will still be accessing the classified ads via the chip in their brain or any other means possible. In the land with limited open space, we create our universe of peace and self between exposed brick and drywall. There is no one like us. We like sushi and barbeque, we simultaneously trend set and trend scoff, we ride four subways to work by day and join pillow fight leagues by night. Don’t try to understand us. We fly the flag of New York City.
