Page 71 of This Is How It Started
“I don’t mind a project,” Richard replies as he turns in place, taking in the work that will need to be done.
“Babe, for the price of this place, we won’t have anything left.”
It’s too early to tell them that the listing price is merely a suggestion. By the time offers roll in, the flat will go for well over asking.
The main bedroom is a nice size with French doors that open to a wooden deck that appears to be a recent addition. The second bedroom is also fairly spacious. There’s a third room, but because it doesn’t have a closet, it can’t legally be called a bedroom.
“This would make a great hobby room,” Charles says, and Richard agrees.
“It’s definitely an improvement over the first one.” Richard takes another look at the split bathroom. “What would you do about this?” he asks about the room with the toilet.
“You could take down the wall and make it one. But what a lot of people do is squeeze a toilet in the room with the sink and tub and add a tiny corner sink in here for a powder room. Then the unit becomes a bath and a half. If you can pull it off, it adds more value.”
Richard looks dubious about fitting a toilet. “I suppose we could steal a little space from the hallway.”
“That would be ideal. Should we move on to the condo?” I hate to rush them, but our appointment is at noon, and in traffic it could take thirty minutes. If there’s a Giants game, it could take even longer.
“Do we have time for me to snap a few pictures?” Charles pulls out his phone.
“Absolutely.”
He quickly walks through the apartment, taking pictures, then we race across town to a sleek six-story building that’s just six years old. The South Beach–Mission Bay area is a hot spot for the young, single upwardly mobile crowd, but there’s more available here in the way of condominiums and apartments that fit into Richard and Charles’s budget. It’s newer and shinier than the rest of the city, and the more I get to know Charles and Richard, the more I realize it’s probably not their style. But I would be remiss in not showing them all their options.
The lunch crowd is swarming the restaurants, and the vibe is millennials on parade. One look at Charles and I can tell he’s thinking the same thing.
“I know,” I say. “But I wanted you to at least see what you can get here. It’s by no means cheap. But there’s a lot of new construction, which means move-in ready. To some people that’s worth the price of admission.”
“I don’t even think this was here the last time we visited San Francisco,” Richard says.
“It wasn’t much before. But with Oracle Park coming in, it started the gentrification. Not far from here is the new Warriors arena, which is only bringing more shops, restaurants, and construction. It’s a great investment.”
Charles lets out a long sigh, and I laugh.
“If you want, we can skip the apartment, and I can try to find something closer to the Castro.” Though I don’t know what. That whole area is way out of their price range.
“No, we’re here,” Richard says. “We may as well look.”
I haven’t been in any of these newer apartments and am kind of anxious myself to see what they offer. Ten minutes later, we’re taking an elevator up to the fifth floor. The building has lots of glass with views of the bay. Unfortunately, the apartment for sale faces the wrong side, and the only views are of other buildings.At least it’s bright,I tell myself.
It’s contemporary, with concrete floors, an electric fireplace, and big black steel-framed windows. It’s so clean I can see my reflection in the quartz countertops.
It’s also the size of a two-car garage. I don’t know how you can fit regular-sized furniture in here. Judging by the current occupants’ couch, they had it custom made. The listing in the MLS says everything is “smart,” which I guess means you can turn on the oven from your lilliputian sofa by voice control without having to walk the two feet.
“I don’t even think it’ll fit Pup Tart’s doggie bed,” Richard says.
“It is gorgeous, though.” Charles is examining the Viking appliances.
We follow the narrow corridor to the main bedroom, which will accommodate a queen-size bed but not much else. The walk-in closet is nice, and it’s an en suite, which the others didn’t have. There’s also a second bathroom. It’s small but a bonus.
“I don’t even think you could fit a double bed in here,” Charles says as we walk through the second bedroom. “It’s more like an office or a nursery.”
The more I see of it, the more I think Campbell and Jess got a steal on their place.
“You want to know the truth,” I say. “This place is overpriced. But they’ll probably get every dime and then some.”
“Out of the bunch, the second one had the most potential for our needs,” Richard says. “But I wasn’t in love with it.”
“I’ll see what else I can find. But the pickings are slim.” If they could bump up their budget by a hundred thousand, it would open the door to more listings. But they’re on a fixed income, and I don’t want them to be house poor.
