I’ve been approved!

Last week I went out apartment shopping solo.  I wandered up to a building in Bed-Stuy.  I checked my phone again-I was at the right place.  I was told, via text message, to buzz apartment 3 and Clive would let me in. 

I buzzed 3 and Clive let me in.   He poked his head out of his apartment and told me “Second floor #10”  before shutting his door, reggae music playing in the back ground.  I walked up one flight of stairs and pushed open #10. 

I walked into the smallest living room I’ve ever entered.  It had three small windows all facing the street, a small kitchen (if you can call it that) and small bathroom (with a tub so it’s OK) and a small bedroom with one window that looked out onto a brick wall.  I like to imagine that several decades ago I could’ve seen Manhattan views or even a garden if I looked out that window. 

One bedroom window plus the three in the living room equals four windows.  I walked back into the non-existant kitchen.  Smallest kitchen on the planet with a miniature stove, minimal cabinet space and an oddly placed refridgerator. 

I walked back into the bedroom.  No closet.

I walked back into the bathroom.  Tub.

I walked back into the living room for the third time and a smile widened across my face-I was in love.

I immediately imagined the possiblities.  Clearly, another lock on the door and no place to store my bike.  No closet and endless amounts of clothes.  Small kitchen and a Kitchen Aide Stand Up Mixer as a wet dream and no place to put it.  Couldn’t do dinner parties, unless I got creative. 

No Closet.

Still, all mine.  Just me and a cat.  (Note to self-Find a cat)

I walked out of the apartment, went down to Clive’s to thank him but he didn’t hear me knocking.  I sent an e-mail to my new landlord, Scott.  After a lot of paperwork, a lot of negotiating, and a serious lecture about my excessive spending and lack of saving I’m moving into my very own apartment.

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