Normal buildings are quite passé at this juncture, with their rapid replacement by condo buildings like the haunted one on Bushwick Avenue taking over the aesthetic of the neighborhood. That’s why, at this point, “baby buildings” (as they’re deemed by mocking real estate agents) are something of a rarity in this place we call Bushwick.
Though Bushwick residents never imagined they’d be on par with the likes of those condo-loving Williamsburg types, the enthusiasm for communal gyms, pet-friendly policies and the potential for befriending a doorman who will really get to know you could not be resisted any longer. However, if it wasn’t for the “baby building” next to Coagulate, local woman Therese Fouler would not be alive today.
It was just another standard night of drinking and drugging at fun monger Wayne Loin’s apartment. Fouler was a friend of a friend of a friend’s nephew who managed to hear about/get invited to the shindig. While partying on the rooftop to the ambient sounds of Taylor Swift’s “Welcome to New York,” Fouler’s inebriated state got the best of her, causing her to teeter off the side of the building in one not so graceful motion, kind of like Lexi Featherston in Sex and the City, except the actually dying part.
“I owe my life to that baby building, and I guess to non-gentrification as a concept,” Fouler remarked as one of her friends signed the cast on her leg with the inscription: “Thank god your ass was plumper than Nicki Minaj’s ’cause that’s what really broke your fall.” But the “baby building” was helpful too.
Written by Genna Riviecico