Since I never learned to drive the freeway, my sister Terra had to sacrifice one of her flex days to take me apartment hunting in L.A. The drive there was uneventful, but as we got closer to our destinations, I suddenly realized my already short roster of apartment leads was getting shorter by the minute as soon as I got a glimpse of the first few run-down neighborhoods with tremendously sad-looking exteriors. Maybe I’m being a little mean, but it certainly seemed ironic that any rental property with the word “Manor” or “Villa” in its name was guaranteed to end up looking nothing like its namesake suggestion. I probably should've already known since the word “estate” was similarly degraded in my own corner of Orange County, where it used to confuse me greatly to acknowledge Tustin Ranch Estates as an enclave of to-die-for luxury homes in contrast to numerous mobile home parks with names that also ended loftily in "Estate!"
Having Terra accompany me as my designated driver turned out to be an eminently wise decision, as I could have never negotiated the streets of LA and look for a property’s address at the same time without causing an accident. We set out early and by 10:30 had arrived at our first scheduled stop, a dark and foreboding neighborhood consisting exclusively of rental complexes. After gingerly getting out of our car to confirm the unit's street address, we wandered around the fenced building for several minutes trying to locate an elusive entrance that would lead us to the leasing office. Unsuccessful, we called the number listed for the complex and discovered that its property management was being done off premise – a definite red flag given that almost every single L.A. apartment review I’d seen had enumerated complaints regarding unresponsive staff, and every apartment ad had made a point of touting their on-site management (if they had it) as a big positive. Looking back through the years I’ve lived in safe, boring ol’ Orange County, I realized I’ve never appreciated straightforward, dependable Tustin and Irvine more than now.
We passed by several transient neighborhoods and witnessed what seemed to be an alarming rate of tenant turnover. In the middle of the day, there was a horde of people carting off their meager belongings across the street into an apartment building that from the outside looked like it couldn't have offered much of an improvement over their old housing. It’s difficult for me to believe these tenants would actually experience any difference in rents or amenities by moving out. Or were they being evicted?!
I was mulling this depressing question and feeling rather downhearted when my sister noted we had gotten down to a single remaining name on our list. And it was sort of ridiculous because we had just visited Tuscani Villas, but were now heading toward Tuscany Apartments. Since the former turned out to be no villa (trust me!), I was hoping against hope that the website info. for Tuscany Apts approximately conformed to some truth-in-advertising basic standards. Actually, I had to remind myself that beggars can’t be choosers in order to overcome my initial reluctance to even check out the place after a question posed by the receptionist over the phone the day before took me entirely by surprise: “Are you looking to rent a one-bedroom, or a bed within a room?”
That last phrase conjured up images of sardine-like bunks stacked closely one on top of another. The reality was, fortunately, much more palatable. Tuscany Apts. offered posh apartment-style student housing, with the only drawback being you had to share a bedroom with another person (of the same sex) to keep down costs. But unlike cramped dorm rooms, these bedrooms are reasonably-sized, each having its own attached bath with double sinks. I learned that the complex was only 6 years new (a rarity in L.A.), and used to house USC students exclusively, but since new management took over not too long ago, they had opened it up to the general population.
It was a pleasant surprise to know Audrey could enjoy truly luxurious living accommodations by learning to be content with dormitory-style sleeping quarters. If she were a high-earning professional insisting on privacy, she could opt to pay twice the quoted basic rent to get a bedroom all to herself. But in order to keep her rent affordable (under $900), Audrey could pare down to a still very livable bipod or tripod arrangement in a Las Vegas-style luxury suite with either 3 or 5 other tenants, each pair having their own bedroom tucked away in a separate wing and everyone sharing spacious and inviting common living spaces (dining room, kitchen & living room) located in the middle of the suite.
As part of our tour, we were taken up to the building's roof deck which looked like an al fresco laptop station where students lounged around on cushy patio furniture. The media room on the first floor was similarly plush and could be reserved as a clubhouse for college parties and get-togethers. I inquired about the percentage of USC students living in the building and the apartment manager said they weren’t allowed to disclose it due to fair-housing laws, but during our half hour there I was able to observe people coming in and out the elevators and the vast majority did look to be college students leaving and returning from class (the USC campus is directly across the street). I figured a working professional would find it difficult to tolerate this kind of shared-living arrangement, especially if they had families, which was why all the studios, single bedrooms, and 2-bedroom apartments in the building were taken up, leaving exactly one vacancy in a bipod suite and a few more in the tripods. But for Audrey’s purpose, it was as good as it gets. She brightened especially at the prospect of socializing with people her own age after work, but looked a little disappointed while surveying the model suite's bedroom and realizing she wouldn’t be able to have half as much closet space and vanity surface as what she currently enjoyed at home. A clotheshorse dilemma! My sister Terra suggested that instead of taking her entire wardrobe to L.A., Audrey could come home to visit on the weekends and bring a week’s worth of outfits with her each time on her trips back.
For me, the moral of the day was, "An Apartment is always an apartment, but a Villa is sometimes not a villa." Ditto for Estates and Manors!
Audrey checking out Tuscany's sundeck
Relaxing in rooftop gazebo
