My frugal immigrant mother was so successful in impressing upon me the importance of finding bargains, that most nights I still eat meals cobbled together from stuff I find for 90% off on the discontinued/damaged shelf at the grocery store. You may think you like saving, but do you like it enough to eat a dented can of corn and expired pudding cups for dinner? Didn’t think so. So when I say this place is the best bargain out there, you know you can trust me. I mean, it’s a place to live for $139,000! What else can you even get for $139,000? One and a half uninsured trips to the emergency room, maybe? A car that will impress high school guys and no one else? Not very much.
And this place is really nice, especially for a $139,000 place. The building was built back in 1929, so it has character; when my friend moved to LA to try to make it as an actor, this is how I pictured his apartment. (In reality, his apartment was an airless studio that might have been a converted self-storage unit, downwind from a Little Caesar’s.) This place is bright, open, and large, with lots of endearing details, like the arched doorways. (Subtly draw attention to them when visitors come over by saying things like, “I’d rather be homeless than live in a place with 90-degree doorways again!”) The living room sports large windows and has plenty of room for the furniture you hate but can’t throw out because your parents gifted it to you. There’s a separate dining room, which I supposed you could use for dining, if you were so inclined, but let’s face it – at this point, dining rooms have the same level of relevance and utility as a carriage horse stable or a candlewick tannery. I’m sure you could come up with something better to use it for.
I really loved the kitchen, which ingeniously takes advantage of the available space with a triangular design. There’s as much counterspace in here as in kitchens twice this size; you could stack two or even three weeks worth of Styrofoam takeout containers on here before the stench and faint sound of scurrying insect life forced you to bag them up and take them out. The bedroom is generously sized enough that if you only have a bed in there, with no furniture, it will look sparse enough that visitors will think you’re some kind of nihilist or minimalist or drug addict or something. Better invest in a dresser so people will be fooled into thinking you’re well-adjusted. The apartment also comes with a huge storage unit in the building, where you can store your trash bags full of clothes you know you’ll never wear again but which are so hideous that you’d be afraid to donate them for fear the Goodwill employees would figure out your identity and then tag you in photos of themselves on Twitter posing in your leopard-print velour cargo sweatpants.
But most importantly, consider that the mortgage for this place is going to be around $500 a month. Do you understand how life-changing that could be? I paid $500 a month in rent for years, and it basically meant that I didn’t have to work. It was great. Some Mondays, I’d be like, “I don’t think I’m going to do any work this week” – and then I wouldn’t do any work that whole week! Now that’s freedom. You could literally sneak a pie into your next work meeting, and when your boss starts yammering on about company values or whatever, just let him have it right in the face. “I didn’t need this job anyway, my mortgage is only $500 a month,” you’ll say as security carries you to the elevator, one guard holding your arms, another holding your legs. Just make sure you tip off your work pal to surreptitiously record the whole thing on his phone, otherwise your friends will never believe you did it.
250 Farragut Street NW #104
1 Bedroom, 1 Bath
Photos courtesy MRIS; listing courtesy City Chic Real Estate, 202-499-4284