All Articles Tagged "Apartment"
Maybe you don’t have the luxury of your own apartment or home at the moment, especially with the economy’s job market and the rising living costs in many metropolitan cities. Even in college, many of us have lived in a roommate situation, where things like space, bills, and finances are shared amongst two, three or even four other people.
If you are preparing yourself to live in a roommate-style situation or already found yourself living with others, make sure you keep in mind a few tips on how to handle the finances of this tricky living situation.
Did you ever live on campus with a roommate? Move in with a best friend? Or even live with someone you met on Craigslist? Well, if you fall into any one those categories, you’ve definitely experienced your share of annoying roommate habits! Here are some of the most annoying roommate habits that will make you go crazy!
Trying to find an apartment in New York City when you don’t live in the city is a nightmare — not that trying to find an apartment in New York City when you’re in New York City is much easier. But unless you have a lot of money and a broker who actually wants to earn his 15% commission, you’re going to end up sacrificing some of those things that would be considered normal amenities in any other city in America just to put a decent roof over your head.
I already knew these things when I was preparing to move back to the city in July. I was given about 60 days from the time I accepted my job offer to find a place and relocate, but in New York speak, since landlord’s here do not hold places for people, I had about two weeks. As the weeks in my search passed by and I was running out of time without being able to do a quick find-an-apartment weekend trip, my search came down to two options. One was sharing an expensive apartment in a new condo-style building in Brooklyn. My roommate would be a 45-year-old man who told me once he installed a kitchenette in the bedroom I’d be renting, which already had its own bathroom, it was expected that I would not be in any of the common areas of the apartment, i.e. the state-of-the-art chef-style kitchen or the enormous living room and balcony. The other option was a more modest Jr. 1-bedroom apartment in Harlem across the street from my last place that was owned by my previous management company and that I had a friend of mine visit twice to check out. I went with Harlem.
When I moved in, things were cool. I already knew the neighborhood so I wasn’t expecting to be grabbing Sunday brunch with friends in the area. But I also wasn’t expecting to be dealing with what I will call “special” neighbors, cat burglars, and other critters, literally. The first time I became a bit suspicious of my dwelling was when my super, who was also my super at my last place, gave me the rundown on my neighbors. He told me a couple of the apartments on my floor were empty besides the quiet guy to the left of me and the old lady on the right who I didn’t have to worry about — just don’t loan her money. When he said that I thought, I don’t ever plan on that being a discussion we would have. But just the next week we were having a completely different one.
When I received an email notification that my package from Target had been delivered I was prepared to have to pick it up from the local post office because of it’s size. What I wasn’t prepared for was the lady to the right of me yelling “hey. hey I have your package ” when I came home. Part of me was happy I wouldn’t have to go to the post office now, the other half was like, umm I don’t know you and I didn’t ask you to do this. What was also uncomfortable was that my neighbor, whose name I still don’t know, would not allow me to enter her apartment and get my package, she insisted on carrying it out to me. Fine, I understand wanting your privacy, despite the fact that we’re talking about the same woman who basically took my property, but when she wouldn’t even stop at the door to set my box down and instead pushed her way into my place, I was on edge. She commented on how nice my place was and all I could think was, if this lady breaks in my apartment and sells my stuff for cash it’s going to be on.
Thankfully, that never happened. What did happen was me essentially telling her to STFU one night when she wouldn’t stop yelling uncontrollably. At first I thought the woman was hurt, so I peeped my head out the door. Then I realized she was just babbling nonsensically, and annoyed I slammed my door shut. She decided to do the same, which prompted me to look in the hall again. This time two males that I’ve seen in her place before were in the hallway. One began to explain to me that she was off her meds, the other thought she was on drugs. My neighbor then peaked her head out saying she was screaming because I slammed my door when all I had to do was ask her to be quiet. Not one to pick a fight with crazy, I asked her to be quiet. She said okay, closed the door, and went back to yelling about being under investigation by the FBI. At that point I didn’t need anyone to explain anything to me: that chick cray.
Much to my misfortune, she’s not the only oddball in my place. Last Monday as I came home my male neighbor to the left stopped me to ask if I’m the “one who’s singing all the time.” Embarrassed and apologizing for being too loud, he said he wasn’t bothered at all and thought I sounded great. He then gave me his name and introduced himself. I said thank you and went inside my apartment and thought nothing else of him. At 11:30 pm, my doorbell rang. Knowing no one was there to see me, I ignored it and thought it might be an accident. A minute later, the bell rang again so I tip-toed out of bed to look through the peep hole. Apparently I wasn’t light enough on my feet because my neighbor, in his yellow flannel pajamas, announced “It’s James. The neighbor you met before.” With my mind in Law & Order SVU mode, I asked him what he needed and that’s when 50-year-old, wild about the eyes James said he needed to talk. I told him no, said I was going to bed, and then I grabbed my fuchsia Komachi knife and laid it by the bed thinking I’ll be damned if that negro tries to get me without a fight.
Two days later, there was a different intruder I had to worry about. After coming home late from work last Wednesday I grabbed some food on the way to my place and simply planned to shower, eat, have a cocktail, and pass out. Unfortunately, when I walked in my bedroom and turned on the light I found a stray cat sitting in my bed. Yes, a stray cat nestled in my streets. Startled, and wondering if I’d just relived a scene from Jumanji, you know when the kids find a lion on their bed, I simply backed out of the apartment, called my super, and hoped I was hallucinating. I was not. When my super entered my place he looked in my bedroom and there the disgusting orange stray cat I take precautions not to even walk by on the street because it looks so gross, sashayed his or her arse out of my place and gave me a look like “you’re lucky I feel like leaving” as it walked by me. I haven’t been back to my place since.
I could write off that last situation as the random dealings of an ally cat so determined to find shelter it spent hours biting and clawing it’s way through the side of my AC window expander, but because I skipped over the part where my property manager’s neglect to close the holes I noticed the day I moved in resulted in a rodent infestation I don’t feel like I have to explain myself. Two hotel stays and a week on a friend’s couch later, I’m mustering up the courage to return to my literal hell hole tomorrow without having to cut a mother effer– which in this case could mean a stray animal, my crazy neighbor, or my landlord who doesn’t understand the concept of peace of mind and why I’m hell bent on breaking my lease. Despite the great things that have happened since moving back to NY, this is one of those times where I can’t help but ask myself, where did I go wrong?
Have you ever had a sucky apartment situation?
Ugh. I’m originally from the suburbs, so when I lived at home, if you heard someone had a mouse or some roaches crawling around their crib, the perception was that your living quarters were less than clean and that you might just be residing in a space that looks like something off of Hoarders. Like I said, I’m from the suburbs–I’m just used to deer, crazy squirrels, murderous raccoons and even slimy possums, so until recently, if you showed me mouse poop on a counter I would have thought it was Oreo cookie crumbs. But I decided to move to the city. Sounded like such a good idea until I saw my first big roach crawling in a Popeye’s bag I left out right after I moved in. It got a
whole lot little worse when after cooking chicken in the kitchen a mouse ran from underneath my oven. Like I said, moving in the city seemed like it should have been a good idea…
No, but seriously, even the fanciest places can wind up with mice–there’s just so many people residing close to one another in the city. If you’re like me and aren’t familiar with this hardcore form of pest and rodent (and spent many years getting over a spider fear–now they aren’t ish), then knowing there is a critter or two, or three in the your place is probably freaking you out and making you want to run out of the house. Don’t. As my mom said to me, “Where are you going to go!?” After contacting my landlord and being crafty with some ammonia and a few spare rolled up rugs, I got some help with my situation. I can’t say that I’ll never see a mouse in my crib again, but with all the steel wool and closed up holes around now, it will sure as hell have a hard time coming in.
It’s a jungle out here. If you’re not careful out here these days, being a single, Hot lady in the city could get you attacked. In an area in Brooklyn called Park Slope, there have been a spree of sexual assaults on young women walking home after dark, with the assailants being different men of different backgrounds (aka, hard to catch). Things like this have young women out here on edge. While you never necessarily think getting attacked, raped, or robbed can’t happen to you, know that folks out here are CRAZY, and it never hurts to be prepared for anything. Get too comfortable and you could get caught up. So here are some tips to help you stay safe while being social and single in the city.
Unless you make the conscious decision that your mother’s crib is the hotspot and don’t see a purpose in moving out, chances are, you’re going to have to live with a complete stranger. And while you may be thinking, “I can live with my friends,” know that it’s rarely a good idea. Friends can wear on each other with the quickness when sharing living quarters. But not all living experiences with strangers have to spell danger. In fact, your random roomie can wind up being one of your best friends! But if you’re an unlucky person like me, your roommate can wind up being enemy numero uno. These are ways you can tell that you’re possibly living with the definition of ratchetness, the omen child, or just a really terrible roommate, and signs that you need to watch your back…and your money.
Eagerly awaiting your next move, you found a rental home well-suited for you at a bargained price! The luxury in renting your own place from a landlord affords high quality living, amenities and an ideal location near suburbia or the city. The stipulations that come with becoming a tenant involve adhering to a lease and providing other non-refundable items while properly caring for the interior and sometimes, the exterior of the space. A good landlord will be evaluating you to see that you follow through on these terms, so here’s what you should do and expect from your prospective humble abode.