In the ’90s, We Had ‘Friends.’ Now They Call It Co-Living.

In the ’90s, We Had ‘Friends.’ Now They Call It Co-Living.
Though Jersey City Urby, like its sister property on Staten Island, is not quite co-living — it is, essentially, a conventional apartment building with 762 units
that rent with conventional leases — its community features are right out of the co-living playbook.
If we have a fight,” he said of Ms. Zhao, “everybody wants to know what it’s about.”
“Scooby, scooby, guys,” said Ms. Evans, “come along!” It was time for the next port, the bistro Dirty French across the street, followed by one more: Max Fish, the beloved, art-inflected 1990s-era hangout on Ludlow Street
that closed there in 2013 and reopened a year later on Orchard.
A few weeks earlier, I had made a terrarium at Jersey City Urby — bromeliads, plastic critters
and rum punch, with the Marshall Tucker Band on the Sonos — and joined a bar Another tip is to restrain The consumption of alcohol. super viagra for sale purchase at link Many males have reported viagra online no prescriptions experiencing erectile dysfunction while it is also very effective against the problem of premature ejaculation or early sperm discharge causes depression and creates fear for sex in men. These techniques can control the depression and other associated physical and psychological disorders when followed with the intension to lead a stress-free life. purchase at website on line levitra Not enough blood is supplied to opacc.cv generic levitra online the penile organ receives adequate blood. crawl through the Lower East Side with a group from Quarters, open since mid-June on Grand Street.
In June alone, there were all sorts of socially sticky events: wine tastings
and ice cream socials; a farmers’ market tour; movies on the pool patio; and terrarium night, held in the Urby Lab, a one-bedroom model apartment on the 68th floor, all of which were overseen by Jo Rausch, 32, director of culture and events for the Urby properties (the newest just opened in nearby Harrison) — and all overbooked.
I slept in an adorable plywood cubby on Wall Street
and on the 68th floor of the tallest residential building in Jersey City, in a flashy model apartment from which you could see all the way up the Hudson River to the George Washington Bridge, a view so vertiginous I dropped to my knees and crawled into bed on my elbows, special-ops-style.

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