When we decided to leave Astoria in 2007, I took a half day off of work, and we had a broker show us 13 apartments in one day.
Andy wanted to live in Manhattan, so we set our sights on the top of the island. We knew we could find a big apartment there in our price range, so we agreed on Washington Heights.
The broker we chose lived near 190th street, so he knew the area. He started us down in the 170’s (which was more expensive), and we ended our search on the named streets below Dyckman.
While we were walking out of the last apartment on Sickles Street, a gun went off in someone’s apartment on the same floor, and someone yelled, “Aye me!”
The broker locked the apartment door as fast as he could, ran down the stairs, and exited the building. Andy and I calmly walked downstairs and met him outside.
The next day we had to go into his office in mid-town to apply for our first choice, but he made us give him our top three. When we told him the gunshot apartment building was second on our list, he almost fell out of his chair. “Really?!”, he asked us. We replied, “Really!”
Our first choice worked out so we didn’t move into the gunshot apartment building, but it was a sign of things to come.