Vaughn Vance

Two weeks ago, Constance Rosenblum wrote about several 20-something New Yorkers who were struggling to live comfortably in the city’s rental market and asked readers to share their stories and photos of terrible New York apartments.

Some moaned, some chastized and some gloated — someone even sent in some haikus. Lack of heat, leaking ceilings and vermin were common nightmares, as were loud prostitutes.

But despite it all – and, for some, because of it – most people recounted their horror stories fondly; remembering a younger self, and a more liberated life.

Here is a slide show of the best photos, as well as a collection of the best of the worst stories, lightly edited.

My first apartment in Manhattan was quite literally a closet. It was on the first floor of a pre-war walk-up in the West Village and I believe it was previously used as the janitor’s broom closet. I had a futon which doubled as the bed. While sitting on the futon you could open the oven door and use it as a footstool, it was so close. At night I could hear chefs cooking in the kitchen restaurant next door. It was 1998, my first year of law school, and I had to fight off seven other applicants for the privilege of living in the closet. Two days ago my husband and I just closed on a 2 BR 2 bath apartment off of CPW, but I love our new place as much as I loved that broom closet.

— Marlene

After I broke up with my live-in boyfriend, at 22, I wanted the camaraderie and company of roommates above all else. I thus chose to live with eight people in a “duplex” (read: first floor and dank, dark basement) on 6th and Avenue C after they wooed me with a backyard BBQ. My 8 x 8 subterranean room was $500 but also wet and cold, and one morning I woke up to find an ant line marching from the window (which was near the ceiling and looked out into the dirt of the garden) across my duvet over my chest, to a muffin on my nightstand. I did have company, though after all: A giant African bullfrog one of the roommates had freed in the garden would mush itself against the windowpane at night, and croak to me at all hours. Unfortunately, not the prince I was looking for.

— Sarah

One summer I lived in a poorly built room in a warehouse next to a toxic waste dump in Bushwick. There was a baby doll factory downstairs and there would often be dumpsters filled with doll parts outside. It was so hot in there that I would sometimes sleep on the roof and be awoken in the morning by the blazing sun, the smell of chemicals and garbage, and helicopters hovering overhead.

— Elizabeth

I grew up in suburban New York and moved to the Upper West Side of Manhattan when I was 18 years old. I lived in an SRO (single room occupancy), which is government-subsidized housing for the poor. I lived there with two other people. The total rent was $445.36, which we split three ways. I had a female roommate and a male roommate. We all lived in one room. We had a twin trundle bed and a small futon. At night when all of our beds were open there was no empty space in the apartment. We had only one closet. We hung our clothes from the window and used them as curtains. We had a small refrigerator and a microwave, but no kitchen. We would shower with our dishes to wash them. We did have a private bathroom, so in that respect I guess we were more lucky than most. We may not have had much in the way of space or material possessions, but we had a lot of fun!

— Jacie Jacobowitz

My first shared apartment was a good deal, however, my roommate never told me during the initial interview he was a practicing nudist. Wasn’t too bad and occasionally I joined in but his friends were a little over the top. Being only 23 years old and just out of college, it was an interesting first apartment experience in the city.

— RD–NYC

2002, South Side of Williamsburg.

The apartment looked great, 3 bedrooms, eat-in-kitchen, one bath and a walk-in closet! Except:

– It was a former crack house. People would come by and reach through our windows asking for god knows what.

– Water pouring from light fixtures because of leaks in the building.

– No heat (my shampoo would freeze in the winter); I would turn the stove on and sit on top of it with the door open for heat.

– No super. One awful winter our window was stuck open for a month.

– Roaches

– Mice

— southsider

After splitting up with a girlfriend in December ‘85 (we lived in Bed-Stuy) I sublet a very narrow Murray Hill floor-through for $300. The next week the temperature dropped and I discovered that the apartment was completely uninsulated and unheated. I stapled plastic sheeting to the walls, hopped around in a sleeping bag when home and left the oven on all the time . . . even so, the toilet was frozen solid every morning.

— JL

In my first term in grad school, I rented an amazingly cheap “penthouse”, at the top of a brownstone on 103rd Street. It was 13′ x 13′, and that included the kitchen, bathroom, and entry hall. Not only was it tiny, it was in terrible shape as well. It also had tons of roaches, which were unfazed by the piles of boric acid and traps that I put everywhere. One night I awoke to roaches crawling on my face! It was horrible.

— Pat

I moved to NYC in 1969, right out of college. Shortly after arriving, I got married. Our combined income was $18,000 – at the time good for 2 college grads. We needed more than just a small studio, but could pay no more than $200 per month. Our find – a 3rd floor walk-up railroad flat on E. 80th for $195 per month. The width of the entire apartment was 8 feet, and within those 8 feet, the floor sloped 6 inches. The closet was 4 hooks on the wall, and there was no sink in the bathroom or a shower. The electrical circuits could not handle a window air conditioner. Did we love the place? You bet! Across the street was a 24-hour bagel store, the Lex was 3 blocks away, and a Chinese laundry did our laundry and dry cleaning for $10.

— Aina Harkey

My worst apt was 410 square feet of illegal basement living that I shared with 2 roommates and Sasha, the 17 year old incontinent New Foundland Labrador, on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. We also shared the space the family of very large mice. Hey, it was $723 a month. It had the usual: small spaces, cramped bath, and a long narrow hall to the only bedroom that 2 could barely pass. Included in the apt were all of 2 windows; one faced the ankles of strangers on the sidewalk and the other a bedroom airshaft that received sunlight only during the equinox. I was more excited by the idea of the equinox than one should be. Off the airshaft was the neighbor who was very fond of two things: Placido Domingo and very cheap hookers. The tenor was loud and the hooker louder. And in his estimation the hooker was always overpriced. The haggling after the fact generally took much longer than actual transaction. And that was a normal Saturday. If it wasn’t for our reversal of fortune and the presence of a very shady landlord we might still be there. Sometimes I still miss that dump.

— Jeff

Meditations on Apartment Living: Haikus Today no water

No chance for leak from above

Reflect on dryness. Elevator shut down

now take time to climb higher

Consider thigh strength. Electric power out

Darkness brings calm and quiet

Contemplate full moon. Dripping faucet now

Tomorrow big flood may come

Rejoice in water.

— Bonnie Eisenfeld

My husband and I sublet an 8×10 room in a downtown loft. No windows, no a/c. The cockroaches owned the place — I got in the habit of covering my glass or beer bottle with my hand whenever I wasn’t actually holding it, a habit that is still with me 15 years later. And two roommates belonged to a swingers’ club and regularly hosted parties for the group, which meant that on certain nights every horizontal space in the common areas was covered with, well, very busy people. Who must have just LOVED the cockroaches.

— Still In Therapy

In 1998,when I was in grad school, I rented a “share” on West 21st. The primary tenets were a couple. She was 7 months pregnant, and he was an ad exec. They rented the back bed room to a baker who worked 3am to 3pm. My “room” was a shelf in the hall airway. My face was a foot from the ceiling with the light fixture in the bed with me. The upstairs neighbors walked around all night. I had a curtain that hung down in front of the underside of the bed, so that was my room. Could not cook, but could keep stuff in the fridge, only in box marked with my name. I was allowed to shower ONLY from 6am to 8am. All this for $400/month. Hey it was only 2 blocks from school. What a deal!

— James Spica NY

We also received stories from outside New York, a couple from as far away as Australia, reminding us that New Yorkers don’t have exclusive rights on miserable apartments. Here below, a favorite store from outside our city: