A Lonely Guy’s best friend is his apartment. Granted, there is no way for him to put his arm around it, chuck it under the chin and take it to a Mets game. But it is very often all he has to come home to. Under no circumstances should he have an apartment that he feels is out to get him. One that’s a little superior. An Oscar Wilde of an apartment. No apartment will ever throw its arms around you and say, “It’s gonna be all right, babe.” But it should at least be on your team.
