Beyond the Bubble: Apartment Hunt
At Dartmouth, even seniors continue to bemoan their freshmen misfortunes living in the River, while their classmates were reclining in the hallowed halls of McLaughlin. Well, after apartment hunting in the most expensive city in the country, let me tell you, the River looks pretty good.
Don’t get me wrong, it could be worse. One of my fellow New Yorkers this term visited my apartment last week and deemed it far superior to his $900 a month futon in a Times Square tenement with “a pretty German lady.” And at least I don’t have to listen to mouse traps repeatedly snapping the necks of innocent baby mice in my kitchen (a typical night in my Paris apartment last winter). I also made a new friend in our broker, who spent a thirty-minute walk and subway ride with me detailing the woes of dating in New York and the futility of an Ivy League education. But even taking into account of this budding friendship, the process is much less fun than room draw and the price tag far worse than those proposed by even the most complained-about landlords in Hanover.
After several disappointing encounters with the best Craigslist prospects who were only looking to sublet for periods longer than three months, and one unfortunate incident with a man who demanded that we wire him money to the United Kingdom, my roommate and I finally found a place in Hell’s Kitchen. Though probably not the safest location after 10 p.m. (I’m pretty sure I almost witnessed a car burglary before the alarm set the two kids running), it is a relief to have a place to call home, especially one with a full-size bed (one advantage over the River). I’ve even grown to love our hallway’s perpetual Ramen smell.
Once again, I’ll try to send some wisdom to those who haven’t yet lost their off-term virginity, this time apartment-specific. I already warned of the perils of purchasing toilet paper last week, but I’ve learned a few things since then to add to the list.
You need to carry more than your student ID with you (phone cases with card holders are crucial here), and locking all three locks on your door may seem tedious, but it’s probably a wise decision since we’re not in Kansas (or Hanover) anymore. My dad has already informed me that my bedroom next to a fire escape is guaranteed to be robbed within the next week, which has really helped me sleep at night.
If you live anywhere near the city in which you’re spending your off-term, you should really drive in when you move. I live on Long Island and thought taking the train with a couple of bags would be no big deal. After a half-hour-long attempt to find a cab at 5:30 p.m. in Bryant Park, weighed down by my enormous luggage and overwhelming frustration, I thought otherwise. Plus my dad will have to continue bringing me assorted items for the rest of the term. Force someone to drive you in: it’s worth it. Also, you have no need for flair and probably will not use as many gym clothes as you would hope, so save the space for a dish rack and some trash bags.
Dartmouth Secure is fickle, but at least it exists and Computer Services is never more than a five-minute walk away. After an hour of waiting in the Time Warner store, I picked up my modem and spent another three hours trying to get the Wi-Fi to work, only to realize that I was without a router (who knew you needed both…). So three weeks into the term, I still don’t have Internet. Moral of the story: ask your parents or friends if they have an extra router and modem lying around before moving in and don’t hesitate to call an expert for help. Or better yet, sublet an apartment with Wi-Fi included. There is an upside to figuring out your own Internet, though: you get to spend fifteen minutes selecting a not-so-witty network name and password.
Finally, establish a close relationship with whoever fixes things in your building. I am currently writing this in absolute darkness because apparently the light in my room decides to shut off when it has been on for too long.
To sum up, start the apartment hunt early and don’t be too picky, but never say no to a building with a doorman and a laundry machine.