It’s not polite to stare. But sometimes when you meet up with crazy, you just can’t help it. Case in point: New York City. Now, I think that every small town has a crazy person that everyone knows by name. We had people named Wheelbarrow Willie and Bible Bill to name a few. When I went to the Big Apple last week for the second time ever, I passed many crazy people. My daughter wondered if they came to New York crazy or if New York made them crazy. It didn’t matter. Crazy is crazy.
But, the real New York crazy isn’t some of the people. No, not at all. It’s the application process to get an apartment. Now, there is undeniable crazy. My daughter and I went up last week to find an apartment for her and her roommate. She had a letter from her former landlord and off to New York we went. Oh, grasshopper, we have so much to learn. Never in my life have I seen such a ridiculous method of renting apartments.
My head is still spinning. We went to look at apartments and realized that we were very unprepared for this mess. Apparently you need to be able to donate a kidney before it is all over and done with. My daughter had to fill out an application to get her credit checked. The application runs anywhere between $40 and a million dollars. Ok, I jest, but just a little. She also has to have an enlarged copy of her drivers license, personal references, reference from her landlord, w-2 forms, page 1 of your tax return, 3 pay stubs,a copy of her acceptance letter from NYU since she won’t have a job. And well, since she won’t have a job, she has to have a guarantor, which I guess is me. I also have to fill out an application, have a letter of employment (when I started working, where I worked and my salary on their letter head.) They want to know where I bank and my account numbers, which they are not getting. I instead, went to my bank and had them write a letter on their letterhead about how much I had in the bank and my various direct deposits. Oh, but wait, not done. They’d like to have a guarantor who lives in New York, and since I don’t, well, her security deposit will most likely have to be more. They want the guarantor to make 80x the monthly salary. Ha, like that is gonna happen. I’m a teacher….in West Virginia. I don’t make $160,000 a year. Good God. So, again, her security deposit, if they choose her, will be higher. Her roommate is going to use her mom as a guarantor also. Well, she is a teacher in my county, so it still doesn’t add up.
If you use a broker to find you an apartment, their fee usually runs between 12-17% of the yearly rent. Figures. Finding a broker who you can trust is the tricky part. Now, there are some people who are property managers and there are some people who you just can’t trust. I went on yelp.com to read reviews about some real estate people. Again, my head was spinning like the pea soup spitting girl from the Exorcist.
I am thinking it may be better to just ask them if I can write out a check for her share for the year and forego this bull shit. Because that’s what it is. Let’s just sign a lease, give her the key and here’s your freaking check.
No, I think that I would prefer to deal with crazy people. On my way to Penn Station, I heard a woman ranting as she came closer. “Stompin out a cigarette is like STOMPIN OUT THE DEVIL”. She was picking at her scalp when she saw my carry-on bag and purse and pointed at me and yelled, “That’s MY bag” and started coming at me. I just looked at her and said, “NOOOOOO, yours doesn’t have a zipper,” and kept walking without missing a beat. I looked back at her and realized that I confused a crazy person. She was standing there, pondering if hers had a zipper.
So much easier to deal with than renting a New York apartment.