Coworker Dennis has been looking at condos lately, and I've been going with him, because everyone should have a fake wife to alternately play good cop/demand to know what this maintenance is for, anyway.
The search has had a salutary effect on his self esteem, as evidenced by the following conversation:
Jennie Smash: are you lunching today?
Coworker Dennis: i have a meeting at 1
JennieSmash: oh poop
Coworker Dennis: so i might run to the post office and get a nasty burrito at qdoba
Coworker Dennis: because buying apartments makes me feel sexy
JennieSmash: oh good for you
Coworker Dennis: and i don't care as much
JennieSmash: HA
JennieSmash: isn't that great?
Coworker Dennis: it sort of is
Coworker Dennis: like, oh, you don't want to date me? well you live on 110th street and i'm buying in a big glass pool-filled orgasm palace on the river with the best view on earth
JennieSmash: HA HA HA
JennieSmash: you are actually killing me
Coworker Dennis: yay! mission accomplished
Showing posts with label real estate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label real estate. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Sunday, November 4, 2007
NaNoWriMo Is Turning Me Into a Crank
The neighbors are cooking something that smells for all the world like parakeet droppings. I'm starting to really hope that I'm having a stroke instead, because otherwise, those poor souls really shouldn't be allowed to cook for themselves.
I did see other humans today, you'll be happy to hear. (Do these posts seem at all like messages in a bottle to you? They seem that way to me.) Anyway, I went out to brunch with a few friends, and then, purely by accident, we wound up going to an open house.
Open houses are a neighborhood pastime, everything that can be condo-ized having been in the past five to ten years. This one was at the top of a rickety five-floor walk-up on Fifth Avenue in Park Slope, which is where we keep the restaurants. The view was tremendous, and the place itself was quite nice, long walk up notwithstanding. The only thing that wigged me out was that there was what appeared to be a bricked up doorway in the living room.
"That is obviously the doorway to hell," I told the Mouse, while he was wincing at some supposedly offensive blond-wood cabinets.
"There was a fire years ago," he said. "In the '80s. Maybe they bricked it up then."
"How do you know?"
"On the other side of that wall exactly is my Mom's apartment. I grew up like five feet from where we're standing now."
"Oh my God! You should buy it! Wait - would she be freaked or psyched?"
"Psyched. She'd bust that door right on down and make it one big apartment."
The Mouse sounded less than thrilled about that, so I don't imagine he'll be buying the place.
I did see other humans today, you'll be happy to hear. (Do these posts seem at all like messages in a bottle to you? They seem that way to me.) Anyway, I went out to brunch with a few friends, and then, purely by accident, we wound up going to an open house.
Open houses are a neighborhood pastime, everything that can be condo-ized having been in the past five to ten years. This one was at the top of a rickety five-floor walk-up on Fifth Avenue in Park Slope, which is where we keep the restaurants. The view was tremendous, and the place itself was quite nice, long walk up notwithstanding. The only thing that wigged me out was that there was what appeared to be a bricked up doorway in the living room.
"That is obviously the doorway to hell," I told the Mouse, while he was wincing at some supposedly offensive blond-wood cabinets.
"There was a fire years ago," he said. "In the '80s. Maybe they bricked it up then."
"How do you know?"
"On the other side of that wall exactly is my Mom's apartment. I grew up like five feet from where we're standing now."
"Oh my God! You should buy it! Wait - would she be freaked or psyched?"
"Psyched. She'd bust that door right on down and make it one big apartment."
The Mouse sounded less than thrilled about that, so I don't imagine he'll be buying the place.
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