05 August 2009

Trudging all over the city this weekend = two minor celebrity sightings!

On Saturday, Blane and I took a turn about the Financial District with a charming realty broker called Jesse.

Our apartment lease ends in four weeks so, under much pressure to find a new home, we were testing out down downtown for some down deals on studios with WATERFRONT VIEWS!!!!!!!!!!!! (That’s the way realty brokers talk.) Apparently the mammoth residential buildings in the Financial District are currently having trouble finding residents to fill their super-slick apartments (after all the super-slick finance dudes were fired late last year). Prices on apartments are PRICE TO MOVED, which just about brings a tiny little closet-size (COSY!) studio into our price range.

While wandering down Wall Street we had one of the most boring celebrity sightings possible, walking past this man:


I had no idea who he was. Blane, however, was mildly mildly interested to recognize James Altucher, the television talking-head who specializes in bringing the technical strategies used by hedge fund managers to the general public…. sdjhfouwiedivfu

Sorry, I fell asleep and my giant breasts just hit the keyboard.

Anyway, after Jesse showed us about twelve different apartments (which, after seeing only one, all started to look the same) we decided the Financial District was not for us. It’s too impersonal, too concrete, too suits. Basically, it’s too James Altucher.

On Sunday, Blane and I adjusted our apartment hunt to focus on the East Village. After the exhausting Financial District marathon of LUXERY STUDIO!!!!! after LUXERY STUDIO!!!!!, we decided we needed to more selective.

After looking at every single listing on Craigslist we found one apartment that actually seemed like a good deal. There was an Open House for it at 2pm, so we headed over to 10th Street and First Avenue to meet Cory the Sleazy Broker; blonde tips in his hair, sunglasses indoors (and at night obviously). We arrived at 2.15pm to find one girl already waiting out the front of the building. Cory arrived five minutes later and took us all up to the fifth floor.

The apartment was lovely! I spent about one minute looking at it before whispering to Blane, “We need to apply for this one before that girl does!” After getting a brief nod of affirmation from Blane, I walked over to Cory the Sleazy Broker.

“What do you think?” Cory asked me.
“Uh, actually we’d like to apply for it.” I said.
“Great! Let’s go downstairs to talk.”
I turned to the girl and cajoled, “You didn’t want to apply for it did you?”
“Well, I only started looking today,” She replied.
“Yeah, you can’t choose the first one you see.”

The girl nodded, and I felt a bit low for taking advantage of her ignorance. The apartment seems like a steal: one bedroom, top floor, facing the street, beautiful old building, two big windows, two (now ornamental) fireplaces.

After a quick conversation with Cory, Blane and I walked back through the East Village to meet Cory at his office and put a deposit on the apartment. On our way we passed a group of girls sitting on their front stoop looking extra trendy and BAM! Second celebrity sighting. Sort of.


I see a lot of girls in New York who make me think, “You must be a model.” But this is the first instance where I’ve recognized one. Agyness Deyn. Ms. Uncompromising Hair.

A recent New York Times article describes her as, “genuinely sweet, sunny and slightly dim, her punkette look the thinnest candy coating over an interior filled primarily with airy, whipped pink goo and nuvo-hippie, gestalt-y wow-ness.”

This also describes how I think of the East Village. It’s stylish but in a candy-coated obvious way. I think once Blane and I move in we’ll learn to recognize the difference between the hipster icing and the old East Village; the one that was depicted in the flashy Broadway musical, ‘Rent’.

Okay, obviously I don’t know anything about the East Village.

But, Ms. Deyn,
Neighbour,
I am moving in.

12 comments:

James Altucher said...

Hey! I don't even own a suit.
-James Altucher

Anonymous said...

It was my suit. I want it back. --- Sincerely, Omid.

Anonymous said...

I'll give you your suit back as soon as you return my Speedo. - James

Anonymous said...

Return your Speedo?...the leopard print one?...You told me that you've never seen a man do such justice to Lycra, now you want the thing back?

Why don't you take what's left of my soul while you're at it.

Unbelievable.
--- Omid

Anonymous said...

OK...OK...Point taken...You can keep the Speedo...But still, it would be the height of rudeness not to finally return the kimono and La Cage Aux Folles video that I left over your place.

Anonymous said...

OMG, James, you still have half my Judy Garland memorabilia collection and you're talking about a crummy litle kimono!!!...BTW, the sherry stain was already there when I got it.

As for the La Cage video, you can have it. I've already seen the thing a gazillion times. - Omid

Anonymous said...

Regrettably, somebody told me to check out this conversation.

My only question to you two characters is who's going to get custody of the tiger?
http://tinyurl.com/m5mzgqiger

audrey said...

Might I add to this increasingly bizarro conversation that the apartment is indeed lovely.

AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU SAW AGYNESS DEYN.

Also, Barcelona is lubly. That is all.

Lucie said...

I like the fact that Dot is neighbours with someone who used to be (almost) neighbours with Mars!

Mars said...

i dont live anywhere near BOLTON!!!!!! thankyouverymuch.

Dot said...

To be fair James, you weren't wearing a suit when I saw you. You had on one of those white t-shirts that business men wear under their suits (and then use as casual wear on the weekends when they take their suits off).

Now stop googling yourself and get back to work!

Marissa said...

haha. this is funny. james is the best and really never wears suits!!!!!!!!