In the series "the NYT prints stories about the tough life of a rich American", I give you the story of a Cynthia Habberstad, who didn't buy a parking space (then listed at $165k) when she bought her condo at 28th and 8th and is now "kicking herself". She is now on a waiting list to buy a space for around $200k.

The kicker, though, comes from this part (emphasis mine):

She and her three children, ages 7, 9 and 11, live on Long Island, but the children’s modeling schedules bring them into the city at least twice a week, and the apartment they bought in the building will be a pied-à-terre.

“If we’re coming in late from dinner or we have a lot of stuff in the car, do we really want to have to walk a few blocks to get home?” Ms. Habberstad said. “It all makes sense now that I don’t have it.”

I mean, seriously. Who the fuck at the Times comes up with these ridiculous stories?

Previously noticed in the Times:

• The terrible stress of throwing lavish dinner parties
• The Tyranny of the Second Home (their headline)

Labels: rants