… Up on the top level is a lavish recreation room with a wet bar, so once you take that weekend class in mixology you’re always talking about, you can make elaborate cocktails for your friends that they’ll discreetly pour into a potted plant the second you leave the room. And finally, outside on the roof deck is – hold onto your hats – a HOT TUB. I might make the occasional hot tub-related wisecrack, probably involving Cinemax movies I watched late at night as a teenager, but I’m the first to admit that if I had my own hot tub, I’d be in there every single night.
… The lower level of the home is a big rec room with a wine fridge and a wet bar, so just resign yourself now to hosting every Super Bowl party for the next decade. There’s also a sauna down here, so instead of hitting the gym and dieting (ugh) for 10 weeks the next time you have to be in a friend’s wedding, you can just wait until the week before and sweat off twenty pounds in here like a high school wrestler making weight.
… This stunning Mediterranean-style home is fresh new construction, so you don’t have to worry about any ghosts, odors, or finding an old, yellowed note under the floorboards that reads, “these walls consecrated forever to the Prince of Darkness, 1871.” (Maybe that’s why all your houseplants keep dying?)
… At the front of the house is a huge bay window with oversized windows, and there’s enough room over here – again, this place is 24 feet wide – to accommodate two or three full living room sets, and maybe up to four, if you’re willing to really cram the furniture in there, and stack it vertically. (This is a great way to discourage your in-laws from visiting. “We’d love to have you, but we have four full living room sets stacked vertically all the way up to the ceiling. We can’t even open the door, we go in and out with a rope ladder we dangle out the window.”)
… “This amazing modernist home was designed by Winthrop Faulkner, a name that’ll raise eyebrows at a cocktail party even among people who have no idea who he is. That name just sounds distinguished. It’s the name of a man who wears linen suits and will tell you to your face that you’re not good enough to date his daughter. This house he’s designed (originally for a labor organizer) is a passive solar home, which means that it gets electricity from the sun and that when you ask where it wants to eat, it’ll say “I don’t care,” but then complain about wherever you pick.”
… And who wouldn’t be jealous of a house like this? The entire first floor is a massive entertaining space that the listing says is “perfect for hosting fundraisers!” (The first fundraiser I’d host here would be themed, “I just bought a $4 million house in Blagden Alley, for god’s sake help me pay my mortgage.”)