Needs a fireplace. And I don’t see the wet bar, but it might be behind the camera.
Where is the nearest grocery store?
I will never again live in a hi-rise building. Tried it, hated it. The building was a formerly very nice building in a heavily Orthodox neighborhood, very quiet with friendly tenants. Then the Russian immigrant swine started moving in, taking over the building.
Russian or not, I hated people walking past my door down the hall, laughing or talking loudly, especially very late at night.
I hated getting into an elevator with someone smoking in it, as I have asthma and cigarette smoke is a trigger (the Russian swine taking over the Brooklyn building simply tore the "No Smoking" sign right off the elevator wall as a "There-I fixed it" gesture).
I hated the Russian couple above me having loud sex late at night, frequently falling on the floor (MY ceiling!) and waking me up. Well, I fixed them good. I called the cops on them. The guy was so mad, he came downstairs to pound on my door. I told him to go pound sand. I then played an audio tape of them screaming and carrying on like mating ferrets and told him through the door, "If you EVER EVER wake me up again, I will play this on loudspeakers for the neighborhood. Why should I keep this entertainment all to myself?" Boy, either they never had sex again or were very quiet about it. You gotta know how to train your Russian immigrant swine, the most hated people in Brooklyn! If you want to carry on like they did, go buy a house. Have some consideration for neighbors. But wait...Russians and consideration? Those two terms can never be in the same sentence, from what I've seen.
Like the young Russkie who would park his car right under my window at 3 in the morning, open his car door (so the uber-loud hiphop garbage music could wake me up) and then beep his car horn a few times (in case the music didn't do the job), shouting to his love up on a higher floor, "Marina, Marina, come down!" (in Russian, of course). Never occurred to him that at 3 a.m., going into the lobby and buzzing her apartment might be the thing to do vs. blasting the nabe with loud music and THEN honking your horn.
They are a big reason I moved to Queens and a 2-story co-op. No one walking with high heels on top of my head, no halls for miscreants to hang out in, no stairwells for Russian teens to have a 3-way in (yes, I passed such a threesome when coming down the stairs on the Sabbath, when I could not use the elevator).
I have beautiful gardens I planted out front, friendly neighbors, the library/post office/pet store and all other amenities only a few minutes' walk away. There are hardly any hi-rise buildings in my little semi-suburban village to block out the sky. There are TREES and GRASS in yards, not poured concrete.
Hi-rises? Feh!