Ka-Ching!

$900,000

11 $900,000 I moved to the Lower East Side in the mid-eighties, the real estate bubble gurgling with greed. My one-bedroom apartment was $900 a month. I had a series of roommates to come up with the rent. I slept in the living room, worked several part-time jobs, and was just starting to pay off my student loans. An old man named Felix had occupied the apartment before me, before he was evicted. He was homeless now and slept near Con Ed because it was warmest there. I’d bring him his Social Security checks, which was the least I could do, since he needed an address to be able to receive them. When I could afford it, I bought him roasted chickens. He said his family was in California and hated him, though I never got the details. This probably had something to do with his love of vodka. He was always holding a bottle, pink spider veins bursting on his nose. The last time I saw him he said he was sorry he was such a bad dad, as though he was confused, as though he thought I was his daughter. Soon after I came home to a bouquet in front of my door—white and yellow carnations for “the family of Felix Strange.” I went to Con Ed where Pearl, the homeless woman he’d befriended, told me Felix had died in his sleep. His orange blanket was in her pile now. Then the sympathy cards started to arrive—in this time of sorrow, thinking of you. I took the flowers and cards to Pearl. When his next Social Security check came, I called to explain Felix had passed away. A curt woman took down my name and mailed me forms to fill out on his behalf. That’s when I saw what he had been paying in rent—$150 a month. I knew there were New York laws about only raising rent a certain percentage from one occupant to the next. I called the housing authority and made a complaint, filling out another questionnaire. I didn’t have high expectations that anything would happen, but a few years later my landlord called. Apparently my filing these documents had put a lien on the building, and he wanted to sell. He reduced my rent in half and gave me a refund for the years I’d paid too much. I called Wachovia Bank where the woman who answered assumed I was requesting another deferment on my student loan. No, I said, I need to find out exactly what I owe since I want to pay the whole thing off. She put me on speakerphone, so I could hear the whole office cheer. duhamelKtext.indd 11 12/1/08 11:15:17 AM ...