Renting an apartment in NY is harder than buying a home

I can't even begin to explain how stressful this has been. I should preface this by saying that it is all worth it. I am excited. I can't wait. I can't wait to get to NY just as much as I can't wait for the getting-to-NY process to be over.

Here's what has happened:

Future Roommate met with Future Landlord last week. His religious/cultural beliefs prevented him from being able to shake her hand, since she is a woman. He seemed to like her, so made a verbal agreement to meet with us the following Monday to sign the lease.

We spent the next five days faxing in paperwork, getting things notarized, dealing with family members, hunting down the realtor who was trying to hunt down the landlord to make a concrete appointment.

On Sunday night, we decided to take the train down as early as possible on Monday without having a concrete appointment with Future Landlord.

I woke up at 4:45 and was picked up by Future Roommate's friend, who kindly drove us to South Station. We got on the 6:30 train, and got into NY at about 11 am. The realtor called us and told us we could meet with Future Landlord between 10 am and 12pm. Perfect.

We got into NY and jumped on the train. The L, which is our way into Williamsburg, was under construction so we ended up hopping a cab from Union Square or somewhere. We got into Williamsburg and realized we had no idea how to drive to where we were going, but luckily because NY is a grid and makes sense, we found our place without a problem.

We went to the landlord's apartment and he prepped us for what was to occur. We had to just be agreeable, pleasant, only speak when spoken to. Fine. Whatever. I will do whatever it takes to have this apartment. I don't want to be homeless. It is worth it.

We entered Future Landlord's office and he was pleasant enough. He's a little eccentric, slightly abrasive but overall a decent fella with a soft side he most likely rarely shows. He seemed to like us.

Soon it became apparent that he hadn't looked over the 4 reams of paperwork we'd sent him. He's rifling through it, saying things like "Leah, you've had some delinquent credit issues." I'm like "WHAT?" I have perfect credit. He's like "Your card went missing." Right, the whole wallet-being-stolen-before-the-Red-Sox-game-fiasco.

He's asking weird questions about the origin of our last names, my religious beliefs (the Hebrew origin of my name was of much interest to him), her ethnic origin, cancer research, etc.

He said "Girls, I like you. I'd love you to live in my building, but I have some concerns. My concern is that you haven't started your new jobs yet. What if something happens? How will you pay the rent?"

We said "This is why we have guarantors."

He said "Your guarantors don't make enough money. I've rented units to students with no income as long as their parents make six figures."

Boiling.

"Do you know anyone else who could cosign?"

Future Roommate said she could ask her hated uncle to cosign, but there's nobody else I can ask. I don't know anyone who makes a lot of money. Nor should I have to, since I have a job. I have a job that will allow me to pay my rent. I have made myself, and I should not be given things based on whether or not I know someone who has money. That's ridiculous. I wanted to yell "Dude, wouldn't you rather have self-made people with integrity in your building rather than ingrateful students?" but I didn't.

I said "No, I don't."

This lease is month-to-month. This makes no sense. His concern is that should the lease become yearly, which it may, we might be unable to pay the rent. But couldn't we cross that bridge when we come to it? Couldn't we just see what happens?

It also makes no sense because I have money saved. The man was theoretically holding copies of three of my bank statements.

In an unprecedented aggressive and risky move which I hope will characterize my new New York self, I said "Sir, I really don't see what the problem is. As you can tell from my bank statements, I am clearly responsible with my finances and also have quite a bit of money saved, which means you aren't at risk." He said "Bank statements?" He didn't have them, but I did because I am anal and brought files! Yay! He looked at them and said "This is all yours?" I said "Yes." He nodded and said "OK. I have a question. You can say 'no,' but I'll throw it out there anyway. Would you be willing to put down four months security deposit on this place plus first month's rent to live here?"

"YES."

He said "I'll draw up the lease and come back on Thursday to sign it."

Man.

So difficult. It's my last full week in Boston and I have to go to NY again on Thursday. I have to get up at 4:30 am again on Thursday. I have to give this man insane amounts of money to live in his building. I have to indulge his power trip.

The beauty of this, however, is that I can indulge his power trip because I am independent and because I said something, even though he could have kicked us right out when I spoke up. I was concerned he'd be like "Aggressive female! She rubs me the wrong way and therefore cannot live in my building" but it seems like he actually respected it. If I hadn't spoken up, there would be no apartment. I got that apartment for myself and I am proud.

There still might be no apartment because you never know with this guy, but I am hoping hoping hoping there is.

I will keep you posted.

Word.