on finding an apartment, please

Who knew finding a place to live would be this difficult.  We found a place a few weeks ago, liked it, it fell through.  We tried again, same building, liked it, it fell through.  We felt just a little defeated yesterday when the call came in from the broker letting us know that the management company had gone with another couple.  We had never interviewed for a place before, it felt a little formal for a rental, but we thought they loved us.  We were wrong.  What did that other couple have that we didn't?  Our credit is great, we laughed at her jokes, were they just prettier?  Do management companies actually choose the prettier people to rent to?  I'm exaggerating only a little.  Self doubt spiral was in full effect.

So yesterday afternoon as I was still on the phone with the broker who was telling me what a tough decision it was to not choose us, I got an email out to the broker of our runner-up place.  Mike was disappointed, he thought it felt like settling, but I tried to be optimistic.  But then last night, waiting outside the runner-up building for the broker to meet me so I could hand over the application materials, I started to cry*.  Just a little.  Not in a sobbing way but more like a whimpering bad actress kind of way.  I stopped as Richard, the runner-up broker, came out of the building with another couple and told me that I had emailed him just a half hour before they did and so, because of the timing, we were first on the list for the place.  That felt like something.  Like the world was shifting in our favor again.

I had already seen the place twice before but Richard took me up again.  The super was in there tiling the bathroom and, since the person who just moved out was in there for a few decades, the wiring and the floors and the ceilings have been gutted and refinished, it will be the newest apartment in a very old building.  There's that optimistic thing kicking in again.  Afterwards Richard brought me across the street for coffee (which at 8pm meant we both got some fizzy juice drink instead) and we went over the application.  When I gave him the name of the apartment-falling-through-brokers we had been dealing with, he told me they were crooks.  As in, about to go to jail kind of crooks**.  That if we had moved forward with them and had given them more than just a deposit, that many clients find themselves out of an apartment and out of the first/last/broker's fee money.

He told me we'd know something soon, and as we said goodnight, I kind of wanted to hug him in the hope that this time it will work.  That in two weeks we'll have a place to move to. 

*That's two mentions of crying in one week and in between a fictional story about a woman trying to kill herself.  I promise I am ok.  Really.
**We found this video of our previous broker getting slammed by the Fox News "shame on you" guy.  Turns out it's a good thing they didn't go with us.