New York City Living as Reported by Shawn

Well, we're here. We've been in New York City since September 15th when Christina stepped out of a taxi in front of our apartment with Bobbi "Socks" in tow. After over 10 hours of travel, I greeted her with a Subway sandwich and a seat on our stoop. I had picked up the keys earlier in the day and found the apartment not as ready as I would expect $1,800 a month to guarantee. The dishwasher didn't work; we had no hot water in the kitchen sink (and the water there tasted bad...the way old things smell); the smoke detector was missing; the doorbell and intercom system was missing; and one of two windows that look out into the shaft didn't open. This is what I remember. Anyway, we're sitting on the front stoop because as I was picking up the keys (the first set didn't work), I was greeted by an exterminator who was walking out of my apartment after a liberal spraying. He told me that I'd have to be out of the apartment for at least 4 hours. Impossible, I say. Christina was arriving soon after a long day, cat in tow...well, of course he'd already sprayed, so that's why she found me on the stoop.


I could go back to the early days of our New York move and share the moments of panic ("What have we done?"), or share the magic of that first walk through Central Park. There have been many instances of panic and magic and I guess that's what amazes me most about this city. For every one experience there is an exact opposite. I have seen extreme examples of wealth and excess living side by side extreme poverty. We have been witness to the occasional spirit of courtesy and kindness and we have been on the receiving end of some of the worst behavior human nature has to offer. We've been here just a little over a month, but I can honestly say, "I've seen it all." There is so much to see, so much going on all the time, that it is absolutely exhausting just stepping out the door.


It would be easier if stepping out the door meant a short walk to a car. That's what's hard about New York...nothing is easy. If you're exhausted just stepping out the door, imagine walking everywhere and there, too. I don't think I've stopped moving since I got here. It's constant. There is always something you need. Something you just have to have. What makes this even more fun is not remembering exactly where to find whatever it is you have to have and you end up walking a block or two out of your way just to get it. We have learned quickly how to navigate the three blocks North, South, East and West of our little stoop. Laytner's has lovely linens. The Met has tortillas. Zabars for fresh foods and we have to go to Gristedes because it's mentioned in "Title of Show", one of Christina's favorite musicals.


So this is how our story starts. I wish I could say that after a few bumps in the beginning we settled into a comfortable routine, but that would be a lie. On Sunday, October 14th, we learned through a hastily called tenants' meeting that our landlord was making illegal renovations to our building. If you don't know, Christina and I (and her mother Pat) spent several days in New York back in August looking for housing. We must have seen a dozen sorrowfully small, powerfully dirty apartments and then we walked into this building on the Upper West Side, 155 W. 83rd Street. Just a block and 1/2 from Central Park West, between Columbus and Amsterdam. We weren't even up the first flight of stairs before we realized this place was different. The stairs were even and tiled (Italian slate, we were to learn later). One side of the stairwell was exposed brick. There was still a lot of construction going on, but this building was on it's way to beautiful. The apartments were small like all the others we had seen, but we were impressed by the new floors, new walls, new cabinets and appliances...we would be getting a newly renovated apartment.


So, back to the tenants' meeting. The manager, was in trouble with the state's housing authorities. He lied about the kinds of renovations he was making. The building on W. 83rd Street was originally zoned as a Single Room Occupancy (SRO) building, where residents had a small room and shared a kitchen, bath and common area on each floor. Historically, this building has been a hostel, a whorehouse, a crackhouse and low-income housing. The problems began when it became known that the work permits, posted right there on the front door for all to see, allowed the manager to make renovations to the building zoned as an SRO; he did not have permission to gut the building and make individual apartments with individual kitchens and baths. This is illegal and dangerous. The landlord has several outstanding building code violations. One cites him for "Illegal Conversion" of an SRO into apartments. Another inspection on 10/1/2007 included notes that "excavation with no permit has caused walls to shift." This violation was coded 12, "Demolition-unsafe/illegal/mechanical demo". Within a day or two of discovery, the building was crawling with housing authorities and fire investigators. Our apartment doesn't have a fire escape. I have to say, this was something that concerned me early on. I remembered that the apartment had two windows, but I remembered that they looked out into the shaft and I wasn't quite sure how we'd escape in a fire. When I asked the building's Superintendent, he told me that we could escape from the apartment in the front and in the back of the building; they both had fire escapes. When I asked him what to do if the tenants weren't home, he pretended not to understand English. In short, we were among the first to be moved. I got a call at work on Wednesday, October 17th from a housing investigator telling me that we were to vacate our apartment by 9:00PM that night, Red Cross would provide shelter and so on.


Your time is precious and this story is long. I appreciate your patience. We were moved that night to an apartment in the building that was deemed "safe" by housing authorities and investigators. We are in that apartment now. The management office told me that the Super, George, and his workers would make the apartment ready and George promised that they would move us. Well, George left the building shortly after 7:30PM; his workers left at 9:00 (we moved ourselves) and I moved the toilet seat out of my unsafe apartment into the apartment that had been made "ready" for us. Imagine having to move your own toilet seat, and you can imagine my stroke-impending frustration over paying $1,800 a month for this fiasco. I ask anyone...really...is it too much to ask that the place comes with an air-conditioning unit (there's a place for one); a dishwasher that doesn't fall out of the space provided when you try to pull it open; trim on the cabinets, counters, walls and floors; shelves in your cabinets; a screen for your window; a toilet roll holder; and my favorite, the toilet seat??


The story ends tonight after we have spent countless hours fretting since last Wednesday over whether the entire building would be condemned (this was a real threat, but the housing authorities and fire investigators backed off when they saw the landlord making an effort to correct the situation). He's now in the process of getting the proper permits. He owns several properties and was trying to do the same kinds of renovations to two other SRO buildings. What troubles me most is that this man knew what he was doing. He took our money, put our lives in jeopardy and hasn't bothered to acknowledge this in any way. We have received no formal communication about the building and it's future or how long we're to stay in this more spacious apartment (rent would be more, but I'm not paying him a dime more than $1,800...technically, we've been told the lease is illegal because the apartment he leased doesn't really exist...blah, blah, blah...). We have considered and reconsidered every side of this, even considered staying because we love the apartment that "will be", but don't want to give another dollar over to a lying cheat. We have cried some and felt sorry for ourselves A LOT and then remembered that we still have a roof over our heads and we have options. So many don't. On Thursday, we met with our broker, Jeff and began to see apartments. We spent Thursday, Friday and Saturday looking and today we met with success. A neighborhood called Chelsea will be our new home.

Check back here later for brief updates on our life in New York City. I promise the updates won't all be this long!