The Bachelorette Pad

Welcome to my humble abode. It’s in an 8th floor apartment on 32nd street. It’s very close to the “center” of the city, and even better—it’s 5 blocks from where I’m working at Hudson. Score! It’s also safe, because it’s near the Empire State building, so policemen are constantly swarming the area protecting this national treasure.  The story of how I found the place is NUTS. For believing that I’ve been “accident-prone” or unlucky, things sure have taken a turn for the good.

If you don’t have a LinkedIn page already, get on it. I set one up and posted about possible summer rentals in the “Vandal Alumni” page. A woman (the Assistant Dean to the College of Law at University of Idaho, aka: kind of a big deal) emailed me saying that she was going to connect me with her highly esteemed colleague/friend. This man (Scott) emailed me saying that he had a place that I could live in for the summer. He graduated from University of Idaho and moved to NYC where he eventually started his own law-firm. Scott, his wife, and his two children live outside the city on Long Island.

When I asked how much he’d like for rent, he said, “If you need it, it’s yours free. You can pay me utilities if you feel inclined to do so.” I stared at my computer screen for a few minutes and started tearing-up (apparently I’m an emotional wreck lately). A part of me didn’t think it was real at first, and another part of me thought it was sketchy. Then my mom convinced me that he was probably a small-town farmer boy from Idaho that had made it big when he moved to the city. He just wanted to help a fellow Vandal out. This guy has some good karma coming his way. Go Vandals!

The apartment is tiny. A very cozy queen bed, a kitchenette, a closet, and a dining set are all in same room and a long/skinny bathroom is housed in a corner. The ceiling is high-pitched, which makes the room appear deceitfully larger than it really is. There is a lot of light that emanates through the two floor-to-ceiling windows facing the street. I can’t actually see the street below because the buildings are so tall (and so close together), but it’s down there somewhere. The whole studio is probably no bigger than my room at home, but it’s free, and it’s convenient, and… it’s FREE! 

With over $4,000 in rent saved for the summer, the apartment is p-e-r-f-e-c-t for one. Though not spacious, it’s tidy, well kept, and the daylight rushes in naturally. The old wooden floors creak sometimes when stepped on, and the front door has had so many coats of paint that you can barely see through the peephole anymore. The bathroom is tiled with a B&W checkered pattern, which reminisces of the 1950s. The hot and cold knobs are mixed up on every faucet in the apartment and I have to make sure that the toilet doesn’t keep running every time it is flushed.

When I come up the elevator and walk to my apartment, I always feel a little dizzy. It’s almost as if I can feel the tall building swaying beneath me. The lock on the door is extremely sticky and hard to turn with the key. Every time I get home, I have to fiddle with it for at least five minutes before it finally clicks open. I need both hands to accomplish this great feat. Once I’m in, however, I’m home. I’m happy here. It’s really a cute, comfy old place. Who could ask for anything more? 


Alena Horowitz

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