Mon, 04 Jun 2012 12:42:10 +0000

I'm moving, so my apartment is up for rent — available July 1. It's in the East Village — a great location, near bars and restaurants. It's a new renovation — a one-bedroom with big closets. That's what the broker says, anyway.

So the past few days, about 50 people have walked in and out, tip-toeing around my boxes, my coffee table and my dog. They don't take off their shoes. They open my fridge without asking. They sniff around my bathroom.

That's fine, though.

But at the end of yesterday, one couple walked in and stood in my kitchen. And they complained — about the half-fridge, the lack of an oven, the small stove-top burners. They complained about how cramped it was and how no one in their right mind could live here. They said all that without acknowledging me. And then, as if to open an imaginary sound-proof curtain, they looked at me: "How did you deal with the kitchen?"

I said, "It's not too bad. There was only one time I had issue with the fridge. It was when my girlfriend and I made Tibetan dumplings. We had so much filling left over! And there was also the time my mom made kimchi and left it in a big tub. Oh and once, my friends and I went out for Vietnamese food and they let me keep some extra beer. It stayed in there forever. As for the oven: You can improvise by using a big pan and the stove-top. It was really fun. And when you really want cookies, you can just walk to the cupcake place next door. Or! Recently my girlfriend and I discovered pastries at Balthazar pastries. The kitchen's missing a lot. But you'll adapt to it, I'm sure. And when you leave, you'll end up missing some of the quirks when you leave."

"So," they asked, "when do you move out?"