After a few long days of schlepping from building to building and collapsing onto Jessica’s couch each night, I was convinced I’d never find a place to live. I cycled through four different brokers in five days, each with apartments more underwhelming than the last. I hadn’t planned to live in Brooklyn, but out of desperation I almost settled for a studio in Jessica’s building where every window faced a brick wall.
Once I started working, I wouldn’t have any time to hunt for an apartment. With less than forty-eight hours until I started at the firm, I started desperately trolling Craigslist. It was impossible to tell which postings were legitimate. I kept thinking about the comfort of the fullyrenovated, cookie-cutter townhouse Ben and I had shared in the quiet suburbs of DC.
On the sixth day of sweating profusely between showings, I collapsed onto a hot bench in Madison Square Park and pulled up Facebook Marketplace on my phone to see if there were any viable rentals.
Free for a drink tonight babe?
There was so much condensation on the screen, I almost didn’t see the text come in. I exhaled warm air. I hadn’t even started working, and the city was kicking the shit out of me.
I met Caroline the first summer I interned in the city through a mutual friend I went to college with at the University of Virginia.
Caroline grew up in Iowa and was recruited by Goldman Sachs out of Yale. Now barely thirty and a senior vice president in the risk management division, she was everything people imagine about women in New York: elegant, independent, fiercely ambitious, and always dating the wrong guy.
We made a plan to meet at Wilfie & Nell in the West Village.
“Try the spicy agave margarita,” she said as I fanned myself with the menu. “We need to get you used to real cocktails.”
“I’m going to need more than one to shake off this week. I’m going to be homeless soon.”
“What’s your budget?”
I never wanted to be asked that again.
“I’m only looking for a studio. I was hoping to keep it under $2,000, but I could go up to $2,500.”
I could never tell my parents how much I’d be paying to rent an apartment in New York. I wasn’t raised to spend money like that. They still had no idea how much I’d borrowed for law school.
Caroline clicked her tongue as she scrolled through her phone. “So, my neighbor in 5E just got engaged and is moving to San Francisco. It’s the same layout as my studio. Let me text her.”
I’d pretty much lost all hope, but this was starting to feel like it could turn into one of those magic New York stories. The rumoredonlyway to find an amazing apartment: have a friend like Caroline.
“Do you know how much she pays?” I was already mentally reshuffling my finances to make it work.
“No, but I pay $2,500.”
I held my breath as she texted her neighbor. Between the tequila and the prospect of finding an apartmentin the West Village, I barely heard anything else until her phone buzzed.
“Okay—she says we can come by tomorrow, and she’ll put in a good word with the landlord.”
“Holy shit.”
“How’re you feeling about the rest of it?”
“I honestly feel like being a lawyer is going to be cake compared to finding a place to live.” I dabbed the last beads of sweat off my upper lip. “I still have to get my hair trimmed. And buy an entire lawyer wardrobe. You know, the small stuff.”
“I’ll text you the number for my hair salon on Thompson Street. And for the rest, Theory is all you need.”
“Is that a school of thought or a clothing store?”
“It’s J.Crew for former versions of ourselves.”
I left Jessica’s apartment the next morning and mapped the closest subway line to the Meatpacking District. Half an hour later, I found Theory’s flagship store on the corner of Greenwich and Gansevoort.
The air-conditioning hit me like an IV. A stylishly dressed male holding a mini Evian took one look at me and clicked his tongue.
“Oh, honey. The world is literally burning to the ground, and we’re all just walking around trying to make it out alive.” He handed me the water. “But I’m here to hydrate you. What are we looking for today?”
“Thanks—I start a new job on Monday, and I just need a few things. Basics.”
