Greetings, friend! Welcome to our apartment. As you’ll notice by the abundance of natural light, condo-like finishes, and general lack of humidity, it’s much nicer than yours. Please, make yourself at home.
Did you see the doorkeeper on the way in? He saw you. He texted us when you arrived. And also when you entered the elevator. And exited the elevator. And got back into the elevator after getting off on the wrong floor. I’m sure your doorkeeper does the same, even if they’re less of a doorkeeper and more of a person who sometimes sleeps outside the door. Doorkeepers are so funny.
How was the train ride? Last time we visited your place, it took forever. You’re really far from the subway! We had to take a bus after the train—a bus! Can you believe that? I forgot they still made those things. But seriously, thanks for making the trip. Have we mentioned our favorite fishmonger just opened a third location in the neighborhood? Now both of our neighborhoods smell like fish!
All right, let me take your coats and hang them in our entryway closet. As I open it, you’ll realize it’s larger than your bedroom, though still smaller than your living room. But I guess you can’t complain about closet space in this city. Especially when you don’t have any closets, which you don’t.
Life update: we just re-refinished the floors. So feel free to leave your shoes in the sunroom, one of three rooms in our apartment that serve no real purpose other than, in this case, collecting sunlight. We also use it for shoes.
If you follow us through the foyer, past the walk-in freezer, and into the sitting room, we can make small talk on our all-white couch. Then we can properly catch up on our all-white loveseat. And then play a tremendously complicated board game on our all-white area rug. Everything in our apartment is all white (except our coffee table, which is light ivory). It’s just our style. We love it because it’s timeless and stains so easily, which means we never feel guilty about replacing the furniture. Life’s too short for that.
Before I forget—we have to tell you about our trip to Bordeaux. The Left Bank is gorgeous this time of year. And it’s amazing how reasonable the villas are. Can you imagine what it would cost to rent one here? Ha! Probably not. Anyway, how was Phoenix?
Okay, enough with the chit-chat; let’s get you a drink. Now, you’ll have to bear with us, we ran out of room in the wine fridge (blame the Left Bank), so the champagne isn’t quite chilled. Thankfully, we have nineteen cases of mezcal stacked neatly in the butler’s pantry. Do you like mezcal? We’re really into mezcal. It’s like tequila, just more polarizing and expensive.
I hope you brought an appetite! The salmon still needs a couple more hours in the smoker, but we’ve got some imported meats and cheeses to tide us over. Thank you again for bringing those homemade brownie bites, by the way. So nostalgic. Takes me right back to my childhood in Cleveland.
So, I couldn’t help but notice you peeping Zillow earlier. Do you plan on buying sometime soon? We plan on buying sometime soon. Sometime very soon. We were actually just in your neck of the woods scouting property. It’s crazy how DIRT CHEAP everything is out there. I mean, wow. You should buy something, if not here, then maybe in Phoenix? We’ve heard great things about Phoenix, mainly from you.
Well, we’ve got pasta-making class in twenty, so I guess it’s time for you to scoot. Thanks for coming out. Next time, we’ll have to trek on over to your place. We’ll bring the mezcal. And our chairs. Because you don’t have any chairs.