It was a hot Wednesday in June when…
…after a morning of postpartum birthday puttering I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to be meeting Jamie and Tania at 10am at an apartment on 79th Street that had been on the market with another broker for 184 days. We were likely inheriting this stale listing and had promised the frustrated seller that we would diagnose the problem and prescribe a solution to get her the highest price in the shortest period of time. Since I hate being late I quickly put on my Lululemons and baseball cap and jogged up Park Avenue incognito.
I told the doorman my name so when he said “Hi, Wendy June” I was surprised that he knew my middle name. He said the other two blondes had already gone up so I got into the elevator and within minutes we’d made a plan to de-clutter, rearrange furniture, replace a sofa with a daybed and were confident that after our quick intervention the seller’s problem would be “fixed”. Before leaving the three of us chatted with the sweet doorman and reminisced about some friends, clients, and dogs who had once called the building home. He said his name was June (although he had a December birthday) and I took it as a sign that everything was falling into place on this special Wednesday in June.
I raced home with only half an hour to shower and get dressed for lunch with the President and Executive Director of Brown Harris Stevens who were taking me out to celebrate my Gemini birthday. Luckily we were meeting across the street from my apartment but when no water came out of the shower I suddenly remembered the note in the elevator informing shareholders that the water would be turned off on Wednesday from 10am-5pm. I called Jamie in a total panic and she very calmly instructed me to take my clothes, underwear, and makeup to SoulCycle on 54th where she promised they had clean showers, nice products and wouldn’t make me get on a bike. When I arrived, the woman at the front desk wished me a happy birthday and escorted me to a pristine locker room where I showered, blow-dried my hair, put on my makeup and was dressed 5 minutes before my 12:45 “due date” at B.L.T.
As I was thanking the staff for my quick “spin” in their facilities, a woman checking in overheard my saga, saw my Brown Harris Stevens shopping bag and said she was tired of paying $10,000/month to live in a noisy rental building undergoing construction and wanted to buy a two bedroom with a dining room preferably on the Upper East Side. The good news is that in addition to a lovely spa-like experience, I met a fabulous “Soul Mate” who I think might be the perfect match for the 79th Street apartment in June’s building.