After two years at a most elegant residence I nicknamed The Club, I have moved eight blocks to another apartment to-be-named. This one’s a little smaller, but the location can’t be beat: Park Avenue out my window, and a train within 20 feet of my door. The move itself was a harrowing process: I looked at about 50 different apartments, and came very close to taking one that was 1. more expensive, 2. in a (much) worse location, 3. smaller, and 4. included a broker fee. At the 11th hour, I found about this place, and after all sorts of hoops to jump through, I am finally here.
It’s only half a mile from my old place, but that’s like 50 miles in New York. There’s no shortage of drugstores, but the local grocery store seems a little snobby. We’ll see how it goes.
