Valentine’s Day was over; time to take down the paper hearts and, for Lillian, all the paper tiger problems she had put in front of herself. This was it; no more sweet-as-Vermont maple syrup, Sugarbush idleness. She was finishing her relocation to Chicago, starting graduate school and finding her Sexy Job in advertising. As much as Gato likes the leap-of-faith move for love, he’s the #1 endorser of leaps-of-faith for self.
As Lillian smoked her last hesitation cigarette, another twentyish, big-baby friend masquerading as someone ready for an adult life, Gato realized graduating and uprooting is about starting a new cycle, not just moving in a linear sense.
Lillian was originally from Montclair, New Jersey. Gato met her while she was waiting tables at a Mexican restaurant off Bloomfield Avenue, a place Gato would go for margaritas with his Bayonne girlfriends before they were all of legal drinking age … actually, all in high school.
Anyway, Gato knew Lillian way before she followed Phish and used a first edition copy of “Our Bodies, Ourselves” as a fashion bible.
Living in Vermont, she pretended to live by some sort of femme-Unibomber-with-a-co-op-membership ethic. In moments of sanity, she drove back to New York City and visited friends, growing increasingly jealous of the fact that they didn’t have to budget money against things like soap in order to afford organic vegetables.
Gato wondered how a Jersey mushuganah like Lillian would do in the Midwest. But in one last big squeeze, headed for a Chicago apartment she found at Christmas time, Gato could feel her inner strength evaporate every last fear drop.
With the canyons of skyscrapers and Superman comic-style tall buildings relegated to the Loop area, Chicago feels like an easier city to conquer — or put in a temporary headlock — than New York.
Many say that one doesn’t need a car in Chicago. To Gato, that’s like saying one doesn’t need superhuman stamina to be a Cubs fan. Unless one plans to live in one of the near north lakefront neighborhoods, a car opens up worlds of possibilities living-wise and job-wise, especially for new relocates quickly cut off from parental money flow.
Lillian moved with $2000 to her name, something that is in Chicago, believe it or not, still realistic. Lillian opened herself up to more apartment options because she wasn’t tied to living in a Trixie neighborhood — a place where Lillian’s older ‘I met a doc–TER‘ sister from the Upper East would pass store windows and say, “Oh my God! Soooo cute!” every five seconds.
Every neighborhood mentioned herein has apartments for one person in the $460 to $800 a month range.
When it comes to the a-p-t search, Chicago is about hitting the pavement, not the Internet. Completely unfamiliar? Gato recommends first calling the Apartment People (773-248-8800), a service that drives you from place to place. With them, learn the ‘hoods then return with your New Balance on, grab a latte and walk around jotting down numbers.
According to realtor Jose Allende, ’05 graduates are entering a renters market. Gato has even seen red signs appearing in New York’s Soho neighborhood.
Gato’s secret apartment-finding weapons include the Polish, Ukrainian and Spanish newspapers. Prices in the immigrant market are often lower, even in sexy ‘hoods. Because the Phoenecians universalized numbers so all humanity could enjoy the mall, the number of bedrooms and monthly rent are easy to identify in the ad. Then, it’s just a matter of calling the contact and yelling “see a-PART-ament!” with an accent you mysteriously just acquired. Trust Gato, it works.
In terms of understanding a city by subway lines, best values in Chicago are neighborhoods along the Brown line, north of Wrigleyville, and the O’Hare Blue line, north of Bucktown. For young hermits, artists, the miserly or desperate, supercheap digs in the range of $350 to $500 can be found off the Midway Orange line. In that case, Gato suggests McKinley Park or Little Village off the southwest bound Western stop.
Gato adores Chicago streets with tree canopies, so when he took Lillian on the apartment mission, they targeted two Blue Line areas: between the California and Logan Square stop and radiating out from the Irving Park station.
Logan Square is famous for it’s boulevard with grand 19th century mansions. Wander along the side streets off Logan Boulevard, and one can find studios and one-bedrooms ranging from $500 to $800. Look north of Diversey Avenue for even more affordable places.
Neighborhoods off the Irving Park Blue line stop don’t have any stores with overpriced baby clothes and other Trixie nonsense. What they do hold are a plethora of Eastern European, Middle Eastern and Latin American restaurant and apartments with ample space. Neighborhoods like this seem desolate but they’re safe.
Gato related to Lillian that even with his high comfort level for urban blight, he always looks at police data on neighborhood crime before signing a lease. Crime reports often reveal some seemingly safe areas as precarious, especially when it comes to women’s safety.
Lillian learned fast that month-to-month leases still exist in the Windy City. Since she was getting down to business first and meeting men without a motivational syndrome later, she rented a $500 one bedroom with a $250 deposit in the Albany Park area, a block away from Gato’s favorite Serbian bar.
Whole Foods was now out of the question with just $1200 left in her account. Lillian soon learned that Chicago was a budget epicureans dream as poor-grandma-priced fresh fruit and vegetable markets like Cermak Produce abound. Driving around, she discovered Marketplace on the corner of Montrose and Clark, a cheap gourmet heaven where she bought domestic feta for $2.99 a pound.
To decorate Lillian’s place, the blissful platonic couple went to the original Crate and Barrel Outlet (850 W. North Ave. 312-573-9800) where Lillian found plenty of $1.99 plates and 99-cent silverware. For a kitchen table, Gato suggested going to Home Depot buying a hardwood panel and two sawhorses — very loft for $25.
Lillian didn’t hesitate with getting the crap-job cash flow started. Thanks to Gato’s friend Hannah, Lillian had a list of restaurants where she could make good tips and build a nice cache of sexist-pig-boss stories while looking for her destined Sexy Job.
Lillian had just quit a month of double shifts for Mr. hairy-chest, grabby-hands manager to get the rest of her things in Vermont. Headed back in Chicago, she was ready to conquer advertising.
To assist her, Gato called on friends working at Leo Burnett, DDB Worldwide, and boutique agencies. Next week, he’ll bring that advice to you.
