Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy my current living situation. Actually, no. Love my living situation.
I live with 4 college friends, 3 of whom I’ve lived with for the better part of the last 6 years. We have a huge, albeit frequently messy, house. We have no neighbors. We have enough parking. We have a laissez-faire landlord. A “young professional frat house” as it’s been graciously been called.
However, as I stumble and stagger into this pre-adult and post-collegiate phase, I can’t help but feel like I’m missing an integral part of the 20-something transition by not living in an apartment.
While reality may be far from expectation, popular culture has convinced me that apartment living is like dorm living…really fucking cool.
Except more disposable income, less vomit and more or less the same amount of noise complaints.
You’ll meet chicks.
See: Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle (film), The Hills (television show), State Farm (television commercial)
Better examples escape me, I apologize. I’m led to believe that if you’re decent at rapport and an adequate small talker, you’ll be able to have apartment complex hotties over to your place often. She already knows where you live. She doesn’t need to drive to get there – which means she can drink without reservation. She has an easy exit route if she’s over it. I mean, who doesn’t enjoy company after a long day at fashion school?
You’ll have interesting neighbors.
See: Office Space (film), Seinfield (television show), Three’s Company (television show)
I feel like a have a witty banter deficiency. I can’t ask Megan what she’s got in her Whole Foods reusable canvas bags. I can’t bug Ms. White about setting me and her niece who’s studying pre-law at NYU up for a coffee date. I can’t boast to James that no matter what anyone says, Barry Bonds is the greatest of all time.
You can be really emo and introspective, if you so desire.
See: Swingers (film), Mad Men – post Don and Betty divorce (television show), Empty Apartment by Yellowcard (song)
I get just as stressed and burnt out as the next guy, but there’s something to be said about wallowing in your insecurities, frustrations and disappointments in an apartment. I want my slam-the-front-door, power-walk-to-my-barely-anything-in-it-fridge, crack-open-a-cheap-domestic-beer, plop-on-my-shitty-Craigslist-couch and deep-sigh-in-my-dimly-lit-and-empty-apartment moment.
You made it and you’re a fucking badass.
See: Fight Club (film), Big (film), American Psycho (film)
While I missed out on the childhood opportunity to become a man overnight due to a lame arcade game at a shady carnival and then change back to being a kid after hooking up with Elizabeth Perkins, there’s no question that living in an apartment apparently makes you a fucking badass. Apartments in big cities aren’t cheap. A sweet apartment is open admission that you make $60k+ a year.
Your complex is basically a party waiting to happen.
See: How I Met Your Mother (television show), Friends (television show), 98% of beer commercials
Living with 4 other guys is great because I step into my living room and I’m a 30 rack away from a beer pong game. But it also sucks because alone time is hard to come by. However, living in an apartment gives you the best of both worlds. You’ve got your own space and you’re only a trip down the hall away from debating about the age of that chick you met at the community pool yesterday. Which leads me to my next point. Community pools. Man, I wonder what that’s like.
When the time comes for us to move out of this house that we don’t deserve, you can find me at my cozy but overpriced two bed/two bath place shooting the shit with the hipster chick who works in advertising from down the hall while I’m waiting for my roommate to come back so we can decide which dive bar we’re going to karaoke at.