Looking Back: Craigslist and the City

I moved to New York and I didn't know sh!t. No friends. No acquaintances. And not a clue as to how the City functioned.

My possessions consisted of two suitcases, a backpack, and a 25 year old brain that thought  it was much more clever and experienced than it actually was. Thankfully included in that list of possessions was a job that would start just five days after arriving.

Getting off the plane, I asked a group of three mid-20 year olds where a good place in Brooklyn was to live. They laughed at the absurdity of the question, then told me to avoid Williamsburg regardless of what people would say ("unless you like walking over trash everyday"). Park Slope was nice, but trending expensive. And with that advice, I was suddenly alone.

I found a "cheap" Days Inn near JFK Airport and spent the next two nights there. After the emotional roller coaster of leaving Germany, I slept like a king on that queen sized bed. I could only indulge myself in the luxuries of the Days Inn for so long, and took to finding a more stable living situation. Perusing Craigslist, I found a pay-by-the-week furnished apartment in Ridgewood, Queens. I believe the address was 70-77 Forest Ave. The place was $210/week. I left my rent money under the mattress every Friday and the rent fairy took it away.

It was simple, yet effective. Four rooms with a shared kitchen. Other people lived in the space, but I never really saw them - there was no common space. We all locked our doors and went about our business. One of the guys did comic book voices. He got a bit role in the SpongeBob movie and I'd hear him practicing through the walls. The other guy was a bit older and I only remember meeting him once. The fourth guy - I'm not sure I remember meeting him. It may have only been a three bedroom. Who knows... I can only remember so much.

There was a Polish deli down the way where I picked up my food. Lots of pierogies. Bigos. More pierogis. Believe it or not, I actually started to tire of eating pierogies. A Polish family owned the place. Using my limited Polish language skills, I made a very weak attempt at flirting with the daughter behind the counter. She greeted me in Polish every time I came in. Finally it came out that I was just another American. I felt like such a phony.

There was also a sports bar around the corner. I could count on seeing the same 2-4 guys in there every night. 40+ years old. Lived in the neighborhood their entire life. One of the guys was a postal worker.

They called me Texas because I'd always walk in and ask them to turn on the Texas game. While watching that ridiculous Kevin Durant vs Oklahoma State game, one of the guys turns to his buddy and dares him to bite through an unopened beer can. Dare accepted. And won. Tears of laughter from me.

It was a good neighborhood. It was real. No hipsters or yuppies or any of the other gentrifying/revitalizing forces that change a neighborhood. Ethnic and working-class, and good.

The time came to find a real place. A "home". After living out of my backpack for years, I couldn't wait to settle in somewhere. I started visiting open houses throughout Brooklyn. The apartment search is a cut-throat world in New York. Witty emails are a necessity. As is a chill demeanor. All-in-all, it sucks.

There was one place I visited in Crown Heights or Bed Stuy. I can't remember exactly, but it was by the shuttle. Or the G train. Point is, a cop met me at the station and escorted me to the apartment visit. I guess everyone in the neighborhood got personal escorts at night. The guy hosting the open house tried to sell it as "it may seem dangerous, but we probably have the safest walk of anyone in New York." Thanks man... but no thanks.

There was another place, decent apartment, probably towards the (at that time) "nicer" parts of Crown Heights, but the room didn't have a window. Huge closet and a good-sized room, but no window! There was a giant, white tube that connected to a neighboring window unit and pumped in fresh air. To boot, it cost $800/month. The sad thing is I actually considered it!

Without a doubt, after seeing 576, it was clear that THIS is where I wanted to live. And thankfully, it all worked out - better than I ever could have expected! Six years later, I think back on that youthful naivety that carried me through my first weeks in the City. There wasn't really I doubt I wasn't going to make it. The real question was how would the story play out. If you're asking me for my opinion, I'd encourage others to see it.