And The Italian Job Is...CLOSED!

After weeks of wrangling with a co-op board, assuring the client that she would get in when she was ready to cut bait, finally getting a meeting last night and handing off keys an hour ago, she's moving her suitcases out of the hotel and into her new place. 22 days after her lease was supposed to start.

I only get frustrated in the absence of logic, and there was very little when dealing with this particular co-op board. When it comes to getting someone into a unit for rent, there is no need to ignore phone calls, e-mails, or otherwise give people the runaround. Apart from being passive aggressive, it creates needless tension between everyone involved, even the people who are supposed to be on the same side.

I find that it's always better just to be accommodating, even if it's slightly inconvenient or may involve breaking a sweat. Need something brought to your office? Three times in one week? No problem. Need to bend policy a bit to get someone in early when they're moving from another country? What does that cost? Nothing. And it gets things done quicker, which makes everyone happy. To quote Les Miserables, "Glad to do my friends a favor, doesn't cost me to be nice."

But this in New York, and nice is not part of the natural habitat, nor do I expect it to be. I'm more amazed at what lengths people will go to in order to be a pain in the ass, and often for no reason other than a low-grade power trip. I've said it before: the crapper the building, the crazier the co-op. It never fails.

...and now somewhere in this town there is a $6 bottle of wine with my name on it.

At Least I Still Have My Health

In light of the recent unpleasantness with the Murray Hill co-op board, I was reminded of a song Bette Midler sings in the movie Beaches. It's a little jazz ditty called, "I've Still Got My Health."

When one is faced with the absence of logic, and co-op boards aren't known for being logical, just difficult, I like to blare this on my iPod.

Welcome To My Doorman/Elevator...Tenement

Guess what? TR and I got screwed by his co-op board! (Only in New York...)

Now that I've stopped sobbing, I can tell the tale: Last week, on a whim, I called the management company to see the status of our inquiry to sublet out TR's alcove studio since we are having a baby in June. I asked to sublet as of June 1 for up to three years, but I secretly would have taken any day that they gave me.

We got a date all right: Spring/Summer 2010.

It seems that his co-op only allows 15 shareholders at any given time to sublet, and we are on a waiting list with 10 other people. Three of those people are also families who are expecting children.

I asked the woman on the phone if she realized that TR's place is a studio, and that it is likely against some fire code to have two adults and an infant living in essentially 520 square feet, including closet space. (Someone please tell me this is true, and back it up with documents.) She said, "Not to be rude, but you're not the only people in the building who are having a baby." True, but we are likely the only ones in a studio.

You know the old joke about a baby sleeping in a drawer? This might actually be the case for my little bean.

True, it's one heck of a view from the 21st floor, but the board is a little out of touch with the current economic climate or the fact that sometimes rules have to be adjusted in order to keep shareholders happy. Then again, maybe the board doesn't realize their building is on Second Avenue, not Park Avenue.

Other flaws with his board and building (since you asked):

1. They charge for common storage. Even in my rental building, which is also doorman/elevator, and, arguably, nicer, storage is free. Why do people pay to store things in a building that they're already paying maintenance to?

2. Parents cannot buy units for children unless the child is employed and can pay mortgage and maintenance on their own. Granted, if they could do that, they wouldn't need their parents helping them out, would they? (And the board wonders why not one of the six studios on the market have moved in over six months, nor has the two bedroom on the first floor.)

3. At least one doorman is known for hooking up with female resident(s). Klassy!

Again, not the kind policies I would expect east of Lexington Avenue.

Please send booze. Preferably a 2005 Bordeaux, Grand Cru or Premier Grand Cru. Since we're being charged for common storage, I'm turning our slice into a wine cellar/panic room.