It was a chilly Wednesday in April when…
…Mr. X sent me an email from Streeteasy about seeing my terraced landlease listing in the East 60’s off Madison later that morning. I said yes (since it was a hard sale) knowing I’d have to rearrange my morning to allow for extra time because the key was tricky and often required a few extra jiggles or help from the handyman who wasn’t always around. Since Jamie was finishing a walk- thru across the street she offered to help me with the key and to light the outdoor fireplace thus minimizing the risk that I would set the building on fire which is not what the seller had in mind when he’d told me he didn’t have to sell so this wouldn’t be a fire sale.
While I was waiting for the doorman to retrieve the key, I noticed a man with an ivory skull-topped cane talking on his cell phone in front of the building. I was hoping it wasn’t Mr. X since his hands and neck were covered with colorful tattoos that were slightly scary looking so I was glad when Jamie appeared since that meant we could protect each other or at least share in our tragic demise. I could hear my late mother’s voice warning me about being alone in an apartment with a stranger and secretly hoped that even with a few extra jiggles, I wouldn’t be able to open the door. In the elevator, my imagination decided the cane was concealing a dagger and that Mr. X was a killer so I started to sweat when I opened the door with ease. He loved the apartment and I realized I’d been paranoid however when Mr. X asked to see the roof terrace, I feared that would become the scene of the crime.
I set off an extremely loud alarm when I opened the door to the roof so I thought that was our opportunity to escape but instead Jamie and I nervously waited giggling until Mr. X reappeared. He called later that day to see if he could come back with his girlfriend and by this time I had investigated him on google and had learned that he was a trust fund entrepreneur so the tattoos were more of a rebellious statement than an indication that he belonged to a gang. He put in an offer that evening and I figured if we got to the interview stage I would lend him my concealer and encourage him to cover his tattoos just in case the Board was a bunch of stodgy bankers who might not approve of a neighbor who collected so much body art.
Within 24 hours I had learned that he had multiple trust funds and his parents were living in Old Westbury. He mentioned he’d gone through a messy divorce (are they ever neat?) and that he’d had a serious illness and hadn’t expected to live. By this time I really liked him and was rooting for him to get the apartment that no one else wanted. The good news is his girlfriend loved the closets and I was confident that with all of the high-end boutiques downstairs, she’d have an easy time filling them up. I haven’t yet prepped him for the Board Interview but in a small world way of things, the seller happens to be a dermatologist who specializes in laser removal treatments.