the first lurked silently across the street from a parochial school. "do the bells still ring?" i asked. "oh yes! every hour! even through the night! but after a while you don't notice it anymore." the place was huge, though the floor slightly warped, with windows on two sides and a little box room/office. the original molding was still in place, which was a plus. the bathroom was the size of a desk chair, which was a definite minus. best of all, however, was the front door--reached by climbing a very steep flight of stairs, it was about eight feet of carved wood, looming in about as ominous a manner as you could imagine. suffice it to say, i was not the keenest of all keen things on this place, a fact which was firmly compounded by how animated the man showing us the place got when he spoke of the advent of an actual deli going in around the corner--within walking distance, at last!
right.
of course, apartment two was not a patch on apartment three. we should have known the moment we got accidentally swept onto the BQE itself that looking at this place was not going to be a particularly stellar idea. across the street from a playground and --yes, you guessed it-- the BQE, the front door was a great iron cage, without handle and probably able to withstand round two of the great east village riots. the door was answered by a massive nordic type, with a scar in his eyebrow and close-cropped hair. we followed him into the poorly lit hall with the angry once-blue carpet; he dashed up the stairs, making odd noises that we later figured out was a conversation with the building cat. the apartment, while blessed with an exposed brick wall and central air-conditioning, had a chocolate brown bathroom (dani, i know you know my pain here) and the most decrepit carpet i'd ever seen gracing the bedroom. combine that with the spectacular view of the freeway and the fact that the guy downstairs gave me the heebie-jeebies, and i'm sure you can understand why we spent less than ten minutes checking out that place, never to return.
now, apartment one. oh, oh, oh apartment one. as i said, i cannot elaborate just yet. but it makes me feel a little tingly. send happy thoughts to the gods of apartment hunting, if you will, and put in a good word for us, eh?