After months of developing in our top secret facility on Beaver Island, we are nearly ready to enter the next phase. On February 1st, we will be moving to New York City!
We are excited to be moving to a place with millions of people from all walks of life, each carving out a unique story throughout the city. In this myriad of crossing paths, we hope to find inspiration, and look forward to bringing others on-board in the city that never sleeps.
You're probably wondering what this has to do with a Spaniard and two nuns.
The story begins with an apartment search. If you've lived in New York City, then you know how crazy the apartment hunting process is, and ours was no exception. The search led us all around Brooklyn, Queens, and Manhattan. We checked out the up and coming Prospect Heights, ate delicious island food in Crown Heights, got stood up in Queens, roamed the ruins of industry in Williamsburg, avoided the clutches of a broker in Astoria, and finally found a place in Washington Heights.
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When we went to see the place in Washington Heights, we were greeted by a talkative Spaniard named Juan. He is from the Basque area of Spain and is a very kind, yet complicated man. We learned about his time in Manhattan, his favorite workout spots, the occasionally loud neighbors, and his entire family's travel itinerary for the next 60 days. The place was beautiful, and after drinking some juice with him we agreed to meet the next day if we were still interested.
After seeing some more places we realized that Juan's apartment was the best and we went to Chelsea to meet him. We met in a McDonald's (one of the few places open on January 1st) and started going over some details. Then Juan suggested that we go to a place to see his friends so that we would all "feel more comfortable."
We walked over to a small building and knocked on the door and we were greeted by Mother Teresa-style nun, right down to the age, skin tone and texture, lively eyes, and tolerant yet mischievous smile. She ushered us into a small meeting room which had a large painting of Jesus and as we sat down to talk some more nuns joined us. The nuns asked us questions and helped us with copies and office supplies as we settled a minor dispute on rent terms, until Juan agreed, "it's good. good for you, good for me."
As we sat there, handwriting the final details of our agreement on convent letterhead, I was struck by the absurdity of the situation. Here we were in Chelsea, the Castro of New York City, making a deal for a sublet with a Basque Spaniard in the presence of South American nuns under the watchful eyes of a large portrait of Jesus.