Suburbs: Been There, Done That.
Suburbs: Been There, Done That.
A Central Park South Apartment Wins Out
By JOYCE COHEN
When Katherine Nguyen and Vincent Todarello shared a 400-square-foot studio near Canal Street, they rented a storage unit for the overflow of their stuff. Five years ago, caught in the whirlwind of wedding planning, they decided to buy a suburban house.
Their purchase, near the Babylon train station on Long Island, was not far from Mr. Todarello’s hometown, Oakdale. Closer to Manhattan was unaffordable; farther was uncommutable. They were captivated by a three-bedroom ranch with a big basement, and bought it for $389,000. Setting up house was “all fun HGTV stuff,” Ms. Todarello said. “Maybe we weren’t thinking straight.”
Their distaste for the suburban lifestyle surfaced within months.
The commute felt oppressive. On a good day, it was an hour and a half, door-to-door. Mr. Todarello, a lawyer who is now 36, worked so much that “six hours of sleep was a treat,” he said. During the commute, he wrote on his laptop, working on his sci-fi and fantasy novels and his steakhouse review site, johnnyprimesteaks.com.
Ms. Todarello, 31, an in-house auditor, read or slept on the train. At least they commuted together. “We could lean on each other, we could hold hands, we could spread out,” Mr. Todarello said.
Things began to go wrong at the house. Ants invaded and trees rotted. The washer broke and flooded part of that big basement. Upkeep seemed endless and costly.
“We had some tiffs because of lack of money or lack of sleep,” Ms. Todarello said. “I don’t feel we enjoyed anything because we were commuting or working all the time.”
After two years, they tried and failed to sell the house, so they decided to tough out suburban life for a few more years, during which time the roof needed replacing.
Earlier this summer, the Todarellos were able to sell the house for $345,000. They sold, donated or ditched much of their stuff in preparation for downsizing. “I got rid of everything I could separate from emotionally,” Mr. Todarello said.
This time, they wanted a large one-bedroom in a doorman high-rise in Midtown West. Their budget allowed for a monthly rent in the $3,000s.
They checked out two high-rises, both on West 50th Street. At Longacre House, small one-bedrooms were around $3,800 a month and larger ones were in the $4,000s. One block away, at Avalon Midtown West, one-bedrooms started in the mid-$3,000s. Prices seemed high for the size of the apartments. And the buildings were too close to crowded Times Square, which Ms. Todarello aimed to avoid on her walk to her office near Grand Central Terminal.
Carnegie Mews, on West 56th Street, had a one-bedroom for $3,300 a month. But it had an electric range, and they wanted gas.
A few days later, they saw a $3,325 one-bedroom at La Premiere on West 55th Street, with a dining area and a balcony. They were interested. But they submitted their paperwork too late, a few hours after another qualified applicant had done so.
“I was such a crank,” Mr. Todarello said. “I got demotivated and disheartened and got into a mood.” He went to bed angry. Ms. Todarello stayed up with StreetEasy.
When she upped the search parameters to $4,000 a month, an 850-square-foot one-bedroom appeared on Central Park South near Columbus Circle. The rent had dropped to $3,795 after two months on the market for $4,200.
The Todarellos scheduled an appointment for the next day at lunchtime, and arrived to a thundering racket.
Jackhammers “were at full blast when we walked into the apartment,” Mr. Todarello said. Two residential towers were going up just outside. They weren’t bothered a bit. The apartment had new appliances and enormous closets. All of their furniture would fit, including Ms. Todarello’s workbench for her hobby, cake decorating.
The rent is lower for apartments that face the construction site, said the rental agent, Belle Goldshmidt of the Corcoran Group. She urges prospective tenants to visit during construction hours and experience the noise at full volume. “Most of the people, they don’t care,” she said. “I don’t know why they don’t care.”
The Todarellos didn’t care. “We are going to be at work,” Ms. Todarello said. The couple signed on for two years and arrived earlier this summer.
The din begins on the dot of 7 on weekday mornings, and 9 on Saturdays, with Sundays off. But Mr. Todarello is an early riser anyway, and “Katherine sleeps right through it — she’s like a corpse,” he said.
Now, back in the city, “there’s a huge difference in stress levels for me,” Mr. Todarello said. “I don’t have to worry about pulling out weeds from in between the cracks on the driveway.” Instead, he goes for an early run in Central Park and later walks seven minutes to his office. Both have more time for everything — sleep, exercise, hobbies.
Though their rent is on the high end of their budget, their commuting expenses are negligible. Groceries are pricier in the city, but less food goes bad because they purchase smaller quantities. “We are more frugal about buying extra things because we don’t have the space,” Ms. Todarello said.
They want to stay on when the lease expires. Their concern is that their below-market rent will jump when the construction is done. They should have some time: The Nordstrom Tower, going up outside their living room window and projected to be the world’s tallest residential building, isn’t scheduled for completion until 2018.
Correction: August 15, 2014
An earlier version of this article misstated when the Todarellos sold their house. It was earlier this summer, not last winter.
Copyright © 2014 The New York Times Company. Reprinted with Permission. James Estrin/The New York Times.