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Twenty-one differences between hunting for an NYC apartment in your 20s vs in your 30s

By Time Out New York contributors

Listen, 30 is quickly becoming the new 20, especially in New York City—and especially when it comes to apartment hunting. You finally have a steady job, a grown-up relationship (or not!) and something resembling a respectable income, so you can now hunt for a place to live with a little more knowledge than when you first ventured into the city. As 30-year-olds, we have a lower tolerance for apartment problems like noisy neighbors and heat that only sometimes-kinda works, along with an IDGAF attitude when it comes to making friends with the roomie. Read on for 21 ways apartment hunting changes from your 20s to your 30s: 

20s: Ah, it’s close to a convenient all-night bodega for drinks, smokes and other late-night needs.
30s: Who the hell is buzzing the door at 10:30pm?
20s: It’s near a dog park? Yes!
30s: It’s near a dog park? Yes! Also, fuck, there’s kids.
20s: Sure, I will convert this walk-in closet to a bedroom.
30s: This bedroom doesn’t have a closet? Hell. No. 
20s: Sixth-floor walk-up? Cool. No need for a gym membership
30s: Sixth-floor walk-u—YEAH RIGHT.
20s: No fee! No fee! No fee! JACKPOT!
30s: This is a scam. RUN!
20s: No doorman, no problem.
30s: When there is a wedding registry, there must be a doorman.
20s: YES. These roommates are so cool and like to party. 
30s: Shit. These roommates are so cool and like to party. 
20s: Great, I can fit cases of beer in that foyer area near the door.
30s: Great, I can fit cases of formula in that foyer area near the door.
20s: We can get a housekeeper to clean the common areas.
30s: We will get a housekeeper to clean every nook and cranny—high and low—in this place.
20s: Sure, I’ll live in this windowless basement as long as my rent is cheap.
30s: I simply need a sundrenched space for my perfectly maintained plants.
20s: My first priority is proximity to bars.
30s: My first priority is proximity to grocery stores and a yoga studio.
20s: I can literally sleep through anything, so you don’t care about noise outside.
30s: I need this place to be silent—it is my retreat from the city, after all.
20s: I’ll put up with anything to pay less than $800.
30s: I’ll pay an extra $800 to avoid the many, many housing and roommate mistakes of my past.
20s: Is that mold? Eh, I’ll worry about it later; I like this place.
20s: I want to live somewhere surrounded bars and restaurants.
30s: I want to live somewhere where I don’t have to worry about someone puking outside my door.
20s: How many roommates can I fit in the space?
30s: How much furniture can I fit in the space?
20s: I’m praying to find a place with rooftop access.
30s: I’m praying to find a place with a backyard.
20s: My BFF and I are getting a realtor to try to find us the perfect empty remodeled two-bedroom.
30s: I find an open room on Craigslist, I take it. 
20s: I rigorously interview potential roommates to find the ideal companion for starting my life in the big city. 
30s: The first person who applies (and seems normal-ish) gets it. 
20s: I file a complaint with my landlord for every noisy radiator, broken lightbulb and obnoxious neighbor.
30s: I have names for the cockroaches, because lol I know they’re not going anywhere. 
20s: I invite my roommates out to happy hour and make snacks every Monday for watching The Bachelor together. 
30s: [Door slam]

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