I can honestly say I have officially broken my “brokers vertigo” cherry.
What is broker’s vertigo you might ask? Well – this is the special ability that brokers in New York City have to completely confound apartment hunters by promising oranges and then providing kitchen sinks.
Against our better judgment, my future roommate and I decided to visit a friendly neighborhood brokerage firm.
This is how the conversation progressed when we first arrived all dopey eyed and optimistic:
Alvaro and roommate (Now imagine us all done up and pretty to be presentable of course. We even had matching man bags.): Sleazy, we’re looking for something low fee ok? If it’s anything else we rather not waste your time or ours.
Broker (As you can tell I’m calling him Sleazy): Of course! We have the best apartments ever for you! Of course! You can get anything you want! I’m SO easy going and rad!
Alvaro and roommate: So what’s the fee? Is it as low as 10%?
Broker: Of course! We have the best apartments ever for you! Of course! You can get anything you want! I’m SO easy going and rad!
(Alvaro and roommate look at each other.)
We saw three apartments.
The good one
The first one was actually the one we enjoyed the most. It was in the West 80s, a section of Manhattan we did not even think of living in until we saw the apartment. It was a fifth floor walk-up with a generous living space. The way it was set up was as follows. You walked in, there was the common space, a kitchenette on the left. In the living room (which by the way had the highest ceilings I’ve seen in an apartment under $3,000) was a small loft crawl space. This was more of a “walk space” since it could fit at least six people lying down. There was a small wooden ladder that led you up to it. Walking further into the apartment was the bathroom on the left and then the bedroom. This is where it became a little odd. The broker was adamant on showing us apartments that needed convertible walls. They insisted that putting up a wall in the middle of the room would give us both enough space.
We might as well keep our cars and sleep in them. At least we’d have more leg room.
Gouging price: $2,495 per month
The yuppie one
You know the buildings that feel as if they belong in Jersey City? It was yet another annoying “needs a wall and presto” apartments that this broker seemed to get a hard on for. Even so, the apartment had no character or any feeling whatsoever that it could be home. The manager was also apparently an asshole so no thank you. I rather live on West 85th than West 34th anyway.
It also reminded me of my ex. I shuddered, twice.
Gouging price: $2,695 per month
The cockroach
If a large cockroach with a tiara signaled and caused millions of tiny cockroaches to ceremoniously carry us into a dark dungeon I wouldn’t have been surprised. Not even with the tiara.
The price was good, and WOW a REAL two bed room? It just…. Seemed… dirty.
I can’t explain it. Maybe it was the window opened in the apartment that looked out to a dark abyss in between two buildings or the horrendous color- something wasn’t right.
We are aware that there is no perfect NYC apartment at our price range, so we were about to be flexible with this and take it. It even had the last month free!
That is, until our vertigo began.
The broker sat us down and explained to us why we would have to pay the 15% full fee.
Sleazy (Eyes begin shifting back and forth erratically): Ok, since you get a month free, we can’t lower the fee. I mean we have to pay health insurance for the company’s employers! If you factor in 29 dollars for the toilet you really are paying 1200 per month and then add the 2999 rent is really 2400, coming to 2495 per month. It’s a great deal! (Not having any commas here is purposeful because seriously, he said that all at once.)
Alvaro: What?
Roomate: Toilets?
Sleazy: Well it’s a great deal (repeat the above again.)
We walked out.
We’ve decided to this on our own. It’s pretty much the Himalayas of apartment renting, but we’ve got time.
Oh god we’re screwed.