As we
noted in a prior post,
120 Greenwich Street, #12F is the first apartment that we ever saw in our quest for a downtown Manhattan residence. We still remember
like it was yesterday our sweaty palms as we walked up to the doorman, hearts beating, not quite knowing (yet) what exactly to say to gain entry to our first open house. We remember looking down at our nice shoes, manicured fingernails, and expensive handbags thinking that we "looked the part" of serious buyers, which we thought was important back then. We remember making sure that we didn't look too sweaty in the lobby mirror as we entered the elevator on our ride up to
meet the seller's broker, whom we envisioned as a mix between the cheerleader that never liked us in high school and that craigslist guy that ripped us off in 2004.
We found ourselves wishing that we had a buyer's broker. Someone who would appear knowledgeable on our behalf,
a Harry Potter-like Patronus, if you will, that when conjured would appear in deer form (or whatevs) and protect us from the seller's broker
who we bet can speak with snakes.
We remember the elevator doors opening. We "looked cool" we thought as we headed down the hallway, not knowing quite what to expect from a $719,000 one bedroom in an area of the Financial District that we'd never quite been to. As we opened the door to the apartment, we were met by the realtor, who looked kind of like Severus Snape, with a sensible purse instead of a wand.
"How long have you been looking?" Snape said as we wandered around the shockingly tiny space. "2 minutes" we wanted to blurt out, but instead said "oh, for a little while" as we took in the strangely shaped living room attached to an ample kitchen.
We had no idea what to ask. As we stared at the floor plan, we wondered whether $1,034 was high or low for common charges. "It's tax abated!" Snape said brightly, breaking the silence in the air.
"Expecto Patronum!" we wanted to yell, as we struggled to figure out exactly what "tax abated" meant and how we should appear to digest this information in order to maximize our appearance of seriousness and knowledge.
We continued into the bedroom, which was light-filled
and tiny. Snape pointed out the decent closet space while we looked at the bathroom and wanted to scream "Are you kidding us? $719k? For this???", but instead, we just nodded blankly and moved back into the living room. We wanted to see the private outdoor space that came with this unit (located fascinatingly on the roof but not attached to the actual apartment), but were too afraid to ask the busy looking Snape to show us. On our way out, Snape asked us to sign the sign-in sheet and as we were doing so, we were informed that there were "multiple offers" on this particular unit, which we were too inexperienced to identify as insane lowballs, which would be why the unit was having an open house
duh.
After this experience, we became ever determined to figure out how to navigate open houses (and everything else for that matter). We started Downtowny shortly thereafter to help other buyers do the same.
So...whatever did happen to 120 Greenwich #12F (our seminal apartment)? Well, it turns out that the little bugger did in fact sell, in mid-July as a matter of fact, for a mere $610,000, or about 15% less than it's listing price when we saw the unit back in February. Even more interesting, the $610,000 selling price represents a 24% reduction from the apartment's purchase price in October of 2006. "Expecto Patronum" indeed we murmured.
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