Welcome to your Admissions Interview: NYC co-op

In New York City, 75% of residential buildings are co-ops, making them some of the most exclusive clubs around. But once you’re in, you’re in. Quote from our Manhattan real estate attorney.

If you’ve never bought a home, this might not resonate. In NYC, we were in escrow for eight months. The ups and downs, with no clear timeline, were truly nerve-racking. When we finally got the call eight months later, we had just eight hours’ notice for our co-op interview – and I knew I’d be en route to Philadelphia. We told them we couldn’t make that time. No word for another week. Then: “Can you do your interview at 5 pm on Friday?”

“Yes!” we both said, excitedly, from our cottage in Kennebunkport.

I tell you this because it sets the scene. I genuinely thought we were about to face a tribunal – something straight out of history, like the Founding Fathers signing the Constitution, yet with the old guard of NYC co-ops. As our virtual co-op interview started, the first member joined, then the second… and I knew these people (not literally, but enough). These were the folks who had chosen NYC in their 20s, grew up here, and stayed. By the time all seven were on the call, one of them said, “Mr. and Mrs. Michael, welcome to your admissions interview.” Boom. We were off to the races.

In that moment, I flashed back to all the coming-of-age movies—think Risky Business—where the main character, under pressure from their parents, learns life lessons after a summer with friends, chasing the girl, or making money. This was our Princeton moment, our Harvard admissions interview, and I let loose. I said, “We don’t need NYC; we want it for our next chapter. We want to explore ourselves, our business interests, and each other. Whether we get in or not, we’ll be okay.”

The admissions board sprinkled in a few questions, which Ashley handled professionally while I was amped. No sooner had the interview started than it was over. Straight to the Hurricane in Kennebunkport we went. A couple of martinis in, I started telling the bar about our NYC co-op story. There, an older gentleman – who I later learned was the heir to a legacy pen manufacturer – mentioned he was on the admissions board for his own NYC co-op. He said, “It sounds like you connected with them, and that’s all we’re looking for: connection, commonality, and authenticity… and, under his breath, making sure you’re not a psycho.”

The next morning, slightly hungover, we wondered how well we had done. Another 48 hours passed. Then, Monday morning back in Seattle, we got a text from our NYC agent:

“Get your champagne glasses ready – congratulations, you’re approved!!!!!”

And another text:

“It’s going to take a couple of days to set up the closing, but I’ll reach out to the lawyer and let them know it’s happening.”

And that’s where the real story begins.

To be continued.

After “Admissions interview”