This U Street gem is right across the street from Cardozo High School, which could be a good or a bad thing. The good part is that aside from some brief high-traffic periods at the beginning and the end of each day, the school will be basically deserted; at night it’s like you live in a ghost town, it’s so desolate and quiet. The bad part is that you might become like my friend who lives across the street from a high school, and insists that he’s still “down with the youth” and tries to buy weed and Adderall from high school delinquents. Only they always sell him, like, Tic Tacs and oregano (of course they do – he’s old!), and he since he refuses to admit that he got ripped off by a fifteen year old, he’ll actually take these “pills” and then act high, even though we all know it’s an act. I have no doubt that one day soon, I’ll go to his house and find that he’s decided to start skateboarding. (And then I’ll have to friend-dump him.) And it’s all because of that high school.
The entire first level boasts exposed brick and awesome louvered ceilings. These louvered ceilings are legit; going home from this open house to my apartment and its boring un-louvered ceilings was like when you came home from “Magic Mike XXL” and found your husband on the sofa eating a jar of frosting in his bathrobe. This level is almost entirely open, too, so you get light streaming from the front, all the way to the back and vice versa. The space almost has a loftlike feel to it, which is pretty much the highest praise you can bestow upon a place. Towards the rear of the house is the sleek, all-white kitchen. If angels are, in fact, real, as my mother’s email forwards claim, this is the sort of kitchen they would use. White marble countertops, white cabinets, tiled walls, top of the line stainless steel appliances. I would be terrified to cook anything in here, sort of like how when I pay more than a hundred dollars for a pair of shoes, I’m too scared to actually wear them, lest they get stained or rained on or something, so I basically keep them in protective closet custody for about three years and then donate them when they’ve passed out of style. That’s like this kitchen. I’d probably rather brick it up than cook a pot of marinara in it.
Up the bright, open staircase is the master bedroom suite, which features expansive views of … the high school across the street. (Could be worse: think about how many people in DC now have views of Wal-Marts.) There’s also exposed brick up here, though the ceilings are tragically unlouvered; there are also two, yes, TWO walk-in closets, which is basically the clothes storage equivalent of a stretch Hummer limo. The master bath is basically perfect in every detail, from the twin basins to the freestanding soaking tub to the glass-walled shower with a textured wall that I would totally lather up and then rub my back against like a bear scratching his back against a tree. Out back you’ll have parking, which is indispensable in a neighborhood that gets a weekend influx of Arlington partiers numbering in the billions. (All numbers approximate.) Also, the downstairs rental unit (totally legal and aboveboard, not that anyone in DC cares if you operate an illegal basement rental) is actually a two-bedroom apartment (with two baths!). Man, when even the crappy “let’s get a trust funder intern to pay our mortgage” basement apartments are fine, two-bedroom units, you know this market is getting out of hand. (Translation: I’m going to be renting forever.)
1211 Clifton Street NW
6 Beds, 5 Baths