I love New York City. I didn’t grow up here, but it’s home. It’s a magical, crowded wonderland where shit like this happens on on the regular.
New York fucking City. Where you go to pick up a grilled cheese w/ tomato at midnight and casually run into Bill Murray.
— Brandon Wenerd (@brandonwenerd) March 19, 2015
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That was the type of only-in-New-York magic that happens here. But I’m not obvious to the fact that the city I call home is filled with rich, spoiled assholes who live ridiculous lives of privilege. We’re surrounded by it 24/7. Hell, the cheapest salad at Dean and Delucca is like $14. For a SALAD. The fact that $500,000 will barely buy you a 500-square foot apartment in Manhattan and Brooklyn is living proof of that. It an island that’s home to not only the 1%, but the 0.25%. It’s rich people paradise.
The New York Times’ Real Estate section is my favorite thing about the New York Times (because this poor sack of shit blogger aspires to own a home someday, I browse the “What’s On The Market In NYC” And “What’s On The Market In The Area” religiously every week). Today the Times published an article about the children of the very wealthy who influence MASSIVE real estate decisions for their parents. It’s arguably the douchiest thing I’ve ever read about rich people. It’s douchier than any episode of Bravo’s Vanderpump Rules ever will be. It will make you want to eat the rich, as the saying of the proletariat goes.
This piping hot New York Times trend piece about the 1% starts with this anecdote:
A year and a half ago, Skye van Merkensteijn was shooting hoops with a friend who lives at the Aldyn, a condominium-rental hybrid on Riverside Boulevard with its own indoor basketball court, climbing wall and bowling alley.
Thirteen-year-old Skye was impressed — and envious. Well, his worldly pal told him, he just happened to know of an apartment for sale on the 21st floor.
Skye went home, jumped online and called up a video of the property in question — a 12-room spread with a hot tub and private 37-by-15-foot outdoor pool.
“When my husband, John, came home,” said Skye’s mother, Elizabeth van Merkensteijn, “Skye announced: ‘We’re moving and this is the place we’re moving to.’ ”
Still, for a lark the couple strolled over to check out their son’s find, which, in addition to the pool and an expansive terrace, had bedazzling views of the Hudson and the Palisades. “We looked at each other and said, ‘This is unbelievable,’ ” Mrs. van Merkensteijn recalled. “The idea that you could own a place like this in New York City was amazing.”
Skye came along to the closing a few months later.
YOU LET YOUR KID TALK YOU INTO BUYING A 12-ROOM, $14 MILLION APARTMENT?! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU…
And then this:
In New York, teens and preteens are becoming savvy connoisseurs of real estate.
WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?! WHY?!
Is this some thing like the 17-year-old who is running his own hedge fund that I’ll never understand? Shouldn’t teenagers be figuring out how to non-awkwardly talk to girls and go to movies and Bro our with your hockey team friends and drive cars? Or learning the value of a dollar in a shitty service industry job where they bus tables or ask if someone wants fries with that? Or are they, because of their socioeconomic status, above that?
Why would you EVER give a fuck about something as boring as real estate as a teenager? Are they experts on 30-year fixed mortgages too or is the idea of a loan and interest beyond their comprehension because they’re rich to their wildest dreams?
Perhaps it’s because they’re so utterly at home on the Internet. Perhaps it’s because they’re lured by online images of condo amenities like an indoor pool or a children’s playroom or because they’re fans of “Million Dollar Listing New York” on Bravo. Or maybe it’s because it’s become business as usual for children in certain precincts of Manhattan to participate in family decisions.
“They choose where they and their parents are going to have dinner or where they’re going to go on vacation,” said Stuart Moss, an associate broker at Corcoran. “So why shouldn’t it extend to where they’re going to spend several million dollars for a residence?”
Letting your children watching “Million Dollar Listing” — or any Bravo TV show, really — sounds like the very definition of bad parenting.
These kids have encyclopedic knowledge of the real estate listings, too:
Ms. Yaseen said that in the past children saw their homes-to-be only when it was time for the parents to assign them their bedrooms. “Now, in some cases, the kids are coming on the first visit to an apartment because they want to know if it’s as good in reality as it looked online,” she said. “They’ll sometimes be there with paperwork, with a printout from a website.”
Their knowledge can be quite granular. “We had one teenager who knew the specifics of our floor plans. He knew that the C line apartments are 2,296 square feet and that the L units are 2,277,” said Justin D’Adamo, the managing director of Corcoran Sunshine, the marketing and sales team for River & Warren, a condominium development in Battery Park City. “He told his mother that the C line would be better because of his baby grand piano.”
Ultimately, he and his Steinway carried the day.
“BUTTTT MOMMMMM, THE FUCKING PIANO!!!!” What a ridiculous thing to whine about. That kid will never know the poor people joy of playing on a Casio keyboard. What a prick.
He’s not alone:
When the Haggertys moved to New York from Chicago last year, they rented so they could get the lay of the land. Now that they’ve decided to buy, “Patty has made it part of her daily routine to go online and look up properties,” said Mrs. Haggerty, who is looking for a doorman building, preferably on the Upper East Side, with a live-in super, two or three bedrooms, a gym and, if possible, some outdoor space.
“When she searches, she shows us different square footage, amenities and the taxes,” Mrs. Haggerty said.
Patty’s frequent visits to the sites StreetEasy, Trulia and Zillow led her to Carnegie Park, a condominium on Third and 94th. “We looked at it and are still seriously considering it,” Mrs. Haggerty said; they are also mulling over 515 East 72nd Street, another condominium.
“I feel I’ve been a big contribution to the process,” said Patty, whose wish list includes “a view of Central Park.”
They’re choosing SECOND homes for their parents, too:
Michael Schultz, an associate broker with Corcoran, affectionately refers to 15-year-old Max Srulowitz as “the president.” That’s because last year, when Max’s parents, Jeffrey and Jennifer Srulowitz, were looking for a summer rental in East Hampton, N.Y., Max went online and found some prospects that had eluded Mr. Schultz, including the winning property.
Now, the Srulowitzes are hoping to buy in East Hampton, and once again, Max is playing a key role. Mr. Schultz even includes him in the emails he sends to Mr. and Ms. Srulowitz. “When I get listings,” Ms. Srulowitz said, “I print them out and before I show them to my husband, I’ll show Max. I take pride in his acumen, and he’s very mature.”
It just goes on and on and on and on. Read it over at the New York Times and have your blood boil about how much you hate spoiled rotten teenagers.
Rich people. WTF?! Back in the ’90s, all teenagers wanted in terms of real estate was, at most, Richie Rich’s house complete with a functional McDonalds.
I miss the simple things in life…