Moving through six apartments in two years is probably not a record--not in a city of nomads such as ours. But it is voyeurisically entertaining (and for some of us, painfully familiar) to follow along as one young but experienced-beyond-her-age renter describes her post-college 2008-2010 perambulations on Thoughtcatalog.com, including this memorable flashback:
"To get to the elevator, we had to maneuver through a wire fence, walk over a blanket of rocks and glass and dirt, and finally, traverse over a wooden plank – while carrying our belongings. The elevator had to be cranked up. There were no numbered buttons. You had to pull a lever to get it to stop on the correct floor. If this were reality television, one of us would’ve taken home 10K and the title 'Winner of Survivor: Bushwick.'"
Actually, calling all of her domiciles "apartments" is an exaggeration, since one was a room in the basement of a New Rochelle house and another was a friend's couch. A third was officially commercial space in Brooklyn, which she belatedly discovered (along with that being the reason there was no refrigerator, no stove, no heat or ac, no passenger elevator, no numbered floors, no ... you get the picture).
Her shortest stay was three days in Bushwick. (OK, that might be a record.) The longest so far, 1.3 years, although her current far-reaches of Williamsburg roost -- a 3-bedroom for herself and two roommates -- is being billed as "perfect." We'll have to wait and see.
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