The owner of the building was fast on fixing the toilet (which was clogged), and the living room walls were freshly painted (though no sanding or filling holes before painting); the furniture was old and dilapidated (a desk with the computer drawer falling down and the dining (sic) table was held together with blue tape); the refrigerator contained half-filled bottles of various unwanted items and its outside wall was covered with orange-y stains; the bathroom had peeling paint. But the neighborhood is great (close to Central Park, the subway, many great places to eat), and the heat more than sufficed. Still, i felt a bit like a poor college student who'd found a place he might fix up, if he really tried; so it'd be okay to bring the parents here. Really. They'll understand. It's just for a short while anyway. I came away thinking the guy who owned it just didn't get how shabby it all felt, or maybe he did and didn't care. Me, I'll choose a hotel next time. This was just a bit too depressing.