Signed, Sealed, and Delivered

Total Black: $1,055.46
Total Red: $235,259.75

Today I signed the lease for the new apartment and sent in three cashier’s checks, each for nine hundred dollars.  My new apartment is adorable.  And comes with an amazing view.  This will be my back yard. 

I would be jealous of me.  If I weren’t me.  And frankly, I’m happy touting my own horn for this one time because I’ve certainly had years of flat notes.

The apartment is located very high up; hence the amazing view of Buck Island in the distance.  It’s only an efficiency, but that’s enough for me and the cats.  Drop in total black relates to checks for security deposit and rent.  The landlord had only asked for first month’s rent plus security deposit.  But given the advice of my co-clerk, back in A Nice Gesture, I opted to pay July’s rent as well.  Just in case.

Rent is $900 a month and includes a furnished apartment, utilities, internet, and access to a washer and dryer.  Honestly, the only way to improve that deal would be if the location had been on the beach.  And if I lived alone, I suppose.  The apartment is on the backside of the landlord’s house—a mother-in-law house, I suppose.  I have a separate entrance.  Two actually: one opens out to the pool / yard area and the other to a side entrance.

The only variable I cannot speak to yet is the landlord.  I think everything will be find, but since I didn’t meet the landlord, an unmarried couple, I’m just a wee bit apprehensive.  I met a daughter instead.  Her mother and her mother’s boyfriend were vacationing in Spain when I was on island.  Living this close to the landlord can be an asset or a detriment.  If they’re like the Ropers or Mr. Furley—a detriment.  I’m a gregarious and out-going person so I enjoy meeting new people.  But I don’t want a busy-body landlord or someone who goes through your mail, for example.  Mail generally isn’t delivered in the Virgin Islands actually, but the metaphor holds.

Guess I’ll find out soon enough.  And frankly, though I love the experiences I’ve had in New York, it can’t come soon enough.  Another night with my Naked Boys, singing their . . .  umm . . . . hearts out.  And speaking of my Friday night routine, I wonder what my “by night” should be in St. Croix.