That was a fun idea. Until it was not. I fully changed my mind about 4B after seeing it, and after Tom said he could not honor his promise of transferring my lease and keeping rent the same. He blamed the rent increase of $200 on his business partner in Greece, a person who I suspect might not even exist. I know he used to have a business partner but that relationship appeared to have ended years ago. Tom owns the building outright according to DOB records, but I guess he and his partner could have some other sort of loan arrangement. Whatever the case I think Tom just changed his mind about the offer and, intentionally or not, gave me an easy way out. I might be more inspired to go through with this if there was some urgency, but really there is none save for Tom’s hardon about gutting and renovating my bathroom. I offered to go down to Tampa (or wherever) for a few days and he was receptive to that — as he would be, since it saves him whatever it would cost to follow the rules and put me up in a hotel or some such place for the length of the renovation.
With that comes the possibility that this renovation will lead to a rent increase, but according to what I know there is a stabilized formula for that kind of thing, and it does not seem like the increase would come anywhere near the $200 he asked for for 4B.
I could possibly stay at a friend’s place in Brooklyn, but only if he and his wife and child go away on business, as they often do. Other than that I can’t think of anyone offhand whose place I could shack up at for a few nights. And truth be told getting out of town would probably do me good, even I have no money for the luxury of travel.
But best of all: I really did not like the place. It was all squeaky clean new but it was deftly lacking in certain things I have now and which I value more than I did before having seen this other place. The kitchen in 4B was absolutely tiny. I don’t think it could have been smaller. He made it sound like it was half the size of my current kitchen but it seriously more like a quarter or even a fifth the size. Opening the oven door all the way is barely possible, since it touches the wall. And it was not a new oven. Tom had sort of implied it and everything else would be new. He said he brought the oven over from his house… which is odd in a way, but regardless it suggests that the thing is probably 30 years old. I never use the oven anyway but still…
I would not be able to get my microwave in that kitchen, and assuming I kept the mini fridge and freezer those would also have to go out in one of the 2 main rooms. Again, whole new appreciation for my kitchen now.
I would never have thought it possible but I think the bathroom in 4B is actually smaller than mine. The vanity over the sink was maybe a third the size of my current one, with no on-top space to stash things. I guess there was cabinet space under the sink, I didn’t think to look, but all told there little more in the bathroom than a shitter, a tub, and the sink.
4B has only 2 closets, versus my 3, and at least one of those two closets had no shelves. Here, again like with my kitchen (and even bathroom), I have a new appreciation for something in learning that I have it better than I realized. One of my closets has 4 or 5 shelves on which I store all kinds of crap that would, in 4B, have to be distributed throughout. I would probably end up buying an armoire or some sort of portable closet type of thing, eating up floor space and costing money, which I don’t feel like spending right now.
The two main rooms might have been a little bigger than 2B, but if true it was not by much, and would be no sort of deal maker. It’s hard to compare sizes of rooms when one of them is empty and the other is furnished, but I think Tom had said something about the square footage of the main rooms being pretty much identical between the two places. The bedroom looked like it was probably a little bigger than mine, but who cares…
There were more windows, but the views I thought would be such a welcome change were actually pretty blah. One definite benefit of 4B would probably be that it is quieter than my street-facing 2B. But I can continue to live with that, as I have for 18+ years now. I also might miss the topless woman who walks around her apartment across the street. She just moved in recently.
One benefit of 2B that I’ve always appreciated (and now more so than ever) is how the piano is placed over the lobby of the building, so at least no one living downstairs is bothered by the thumping of the keys. No idea how that sounds upstairs. No such over-the-lobby space exists in 4B.
And then there is the simple yet imposing reality of logistics. Moving bookcases, a safe, the 400 pound desk, the list goes on… that shit was starting to sound epic to me. Now, if this was different scenario where there some urgency to the move then I would get organized and do what I had to do. But there’s no urgency here save for Tom’s bathroom fixation (hah) and I am willing to accommodate by getting out of the way for a few days.
Here, as with so many instances, is where he says one thing one day and another the next. He’d made it sound like the work he wanted to do on 2B would take a month. Now he’s come down to saying it’s only the bathroom and a paint job for the hallway, and that would only take 3 days tops. Had he said this a long time ago we could have dealt with all this by now.
But then there was the matter of his son, and Tom’s own plans for himself. His son, 50, dropped dead a few months ago. He was a picture of health, Tom said. On account of this and other time-horizon factors he is planning to sell the building by year’s end. I asked what happens after that? He said, as I expected, that nobody’s getting kicked out if they’re paying their rent. Which I do, though i’ve long wished I had some backup on that in the form of a paying roommate.
I was really sad to hear about his son, though. On account of that passing Tom says he just has no reason to do this or anything anymore. His son had lived in my current place, 2B, for 12 years. When Tom first started talking about this he made it sound like his son had died in 2B, which would have been a slightly weird fact to learn this many years on. But he died recently in Houston.
The lingering conspiracy theory is that had I taken 4B, even with the lease-transfer in writing, the new owner might see fit or find some way to throw me out anyway. I kinda doubt such doomsday scenarios but I guess you never know, and in this case I guess I really never will.
So he expects to get $1800 for 4B, to my $1380 for a place I think is significantly better. He said he has a 22-year old lined up to sign for 4B, and I think he said something to the effect that that person’s parents already signed something. Good for him. All told I think he just changed his mind and gave me an easy way out.
In 18+ years I think that was the longest conversation I ever had with him. It was actually nice. Cathartic in a way, since he’s been such a terror in my life at times. Some of the anxiety he thrust into my life is as much my hypersensitivity to being needlessly screamed at as anything, but seriously there were times he was angry enough to make me want to cry. I’ve always thought it was just a schtick he has but it never made his screaming at me any easier to deal with. At least he never did it in front of other people.
That fairly big decision being made I was emotionally exhausted. I slept 13 hours, and woke up with the first really painful hardon I’ve had in a few months. I don’t miss those.
…
So, speaking of Tom and his plan, a lengthy back and forth correspondence with an old friend had me revisiting the matter of final arrangements. This subject came up more or less organically, though I’ve discussed the subject at the .MOBI a few times. I want a niche at one of the St. Michael’s columbaria, with The Wild Thing and assorted other tchotchkes on display. I should put it in writing, though. You can buy software at Staples that guides you through the whole will-writing process, or most certainly there are online ways to do it.
The conversation had me going from thinking the subject was potentially a needless and emotionally troublesome bother to thinking, dude, you’re pushing 50 and you’ve never even contemplated such things.
She (the old friend) made her plans years ago, and recently had reason to take some small comfort in that fact when she landed in the emergency room, seemingly at death’s door. She strongly encouraged me to do something, saying it may be eerie or weird but that once it’s done I’ll feel far better about it than I might expect.
(Weird, someone here at the Windmill Garden just said the word “cemetery.” He also mention Queens Boulevard. I think he is talking about New Calvary. Strange…)
But then she has kids. That matters as much as anything in deciding to make such plans earlier on in life. I have no real responsibilities in life, and no one to whom I would reasonably leave any of my magnificent possessions. If I died today I bet my crap would turn up the Hour Children thrift shop, 1 block away. I’d be ok with that, maybe I’ll even put it in my plans.
Wow, those word “My Plans” just resonated in a manner mixed of moroseness, inspiration, and sadness. More and more these days it really does start to feel like I am running out of time. My Plans really are, more than anything else I have control in my life, all mine. The sounds of my fingers typing the words will only be heard once.
…
Good time with a friend last night. I guess I forgot to eat again. We ordered food and when I started devouring it he asked when was the last time I ate. I said “A few weeks ago.” Laughter. Hunger makes me high, as I’ve said since school.
OK, then, going home to work on that shit I keep staring at. Got an utterly hilarious payphone picture yesterday. An NYC payphone, off the hook and in the toilet.
