NYC Living Part Two: Apartment Hunting 101

This week we are continuing on the theme of crazy questions that I am often asked about life here in New York City. Be sure to catch up on Part 1: The Grocery Diaries here.

This week’s question comes from nearly every single friend I have under the age of 40.

Q: I’d like to live in Manhattan too, how do I go about renting an apartment?

A: Well, it’s actually a very simple, straightforward process. You decide on a location you like, find a nice-looking, well-kept building, and just walk in and agree to pay the very reasonable rates which they offer in the contract. 

Oh wait, you meant Manhattan, NEW YORK? Not Manhattan, TEXAS? Oh dear. Well buckle up; let’s get started. 

First of all you need money. A trust fund will do nicely, it doesn’t even have to be your own. If you have those kind of life-skills, I certainly won’t judge you for it. Ditto for pulling off a successful bank heist, acquiring a sugar-daddy, or rigging the state lottery.  

But how MUCH money do you need? Well generally, everything in New York costs 450 times more than it does where you are currently living. If you live in a cardboard refrigerator box on the street corner of some nice town, like Sandusky, Ohio, just keep in mind that you will need approximately $450 in cash for that cardboard box on a street corner here in New York. And more than that if you want the nicer neighborhoods like Gramercy or Tribeca, because you might be on the same street (corner) as Taylor Swift. Go ahead and downsize your expectations on square footage too, because here in New York, your box will probably be from a microwave. Or if you’re lucky, perhaps a dorm fridge. But hey, we all must make sacrifices to live in a place like NYC! 

Now let’s say that you would prefer a studio apartment, as opposed to urban camping. “Studio” is a broad term, which can mean anything from “Your living room is also your bedroom is also your kitchen” to “the shower is down the hall and you have to share it with two other people, one of whom is named Larry and has questionable personal hygiene habits.” It is entirely possible to find a studio apartment for a mere $1400K a month, but keep in mind that at that price, it’s probably located in East Flatbush, which is just as lovely as it sounds. Did I mention that it’s a 5th-floor walkup? And only a brisk 17-minute walk to the nearest subway stop? And the only restaurants that will deliver to your place are Mr. Lao Lao’s Spicy China Hot and the Corner Deli? (Which would make an excellent name for an alt-rock band, by the way.) 

Once you’ve resigned yourself to the location in your price range, it’s time to decide if you’d rather have a pre-war building, or something new and shiny. Pre-wars were built before 1940 (yes, THAT war, what were you thinking? The Civil War?) so you get that unrivaled “architectural charm,” meaning that the wiring and plumbing probably haven’t been updated since Herbert Hoover was in office. They also come equipped with noisy radiators and no air-conditioning, but the crown molding makes up for that.  Pre-war buildings have extra-thick walls made from masonry, so you have the luxury of not hearing your neighbors nearly as much as in the new buildings with their catalog-worthy kitchens and central HVAC systems; where the kitchen counters might be made of Carrera marble, but the walls are made from the kind of card stock typically used in fancy wedding invitations. Liz and I live in a pre-war building from 1911 with walls so thick that our neighbors could be slaughtering goats next door and we probably would never know it. However, last Christmas our bathroom ceiling landed in our bathtub after our upstairs neighbor had a “minor plumbing issue”, so it’s not perfect. 

Next you should decide if you’d like to apply for a market-rate rental building or a co-op, which is short for “You Think Stalin Was Bad?” Co-op buildings are owned by all of the residents currently residing in the building. The residents make up the board, which decides on everything pertaining to the building; from when the boiler oil is delivered to who gets to rent out 17B. You think the FBI knows how to investigate people? They could pick up some techniques from NYC co-op boards.

If you apply to rent 17B, be prepared to hand over your tax returns from the last 5 years, a list of currently owned properties and holdings, your social security number, your grandmother’s social security number, your dental records, your Swiss bank account number, your 12th grade term paper on Cry, the Beloved Country, and DNA samples from your entire family, including your emotional support gerbil, Mr. Winky. If you are discovered to play a musical instrument, the KGB… I mean the co-op board, will reject you because you might make noise. Ditto for singing opera (can you blame them?), owning yappy dogs, being a rock-band promoter, a socialite or student who throws parties, or a lawyer. Nothing frightens a co-op board more than potential litigation.

If you happen to pass the portfolio submission process, you can still bomb out on the in-person interview portion, where they will ask you questions about your job-security (yes, I plan on working forever), your political beliefs (I am whatever party you prefer me to be), future renovation projects (no, I see no need in updating the kitchen, I love orange Formica) and if you’re interested in serving on the board (how fun! Do I get to administer waterboarding?). All of this pales in comparison to the fun you will have when actually living in said co-op; where Big Brother knows when you come, when you go, what type of jam you prefer on your toast, and if you improperly sort your recycling (“Another fine? What?”)

As you can see, it is infinitely preferable to share that hallway bathroom with Hairy Larry over in East Flatbush. Unless Larry decides to learn to play the trumpet. Then you might want to begin getting those tax returns together.