The Artful Lodger

Another Artful Lodger survivor told her tale: One day on the Upper West Side, she and three college classmates set up house in a three-bedroom that had been converted to a four-bedroom with a cheap Japanese folding screen, purchased at Better Your Home (“Better your home than mine,” remarked one inhabitant’s father tartly), that was set up across the vestibule of the open living room.

Soon after the lease was signed, the inhabitant of that room, whom we’ll call Rebecca, announced to her roommates that her German boyfriend, a documentary filmmaker whom we’ll call Werner, would be staying with them for a while.

Werner seemed nice enough at first. But then came the arguments, the uncomfortable references to neighborhood “schvartzes” and the loud sounds of international lovemaking (at the crucial moment, apparently, a booming “Ja … Ja!” would resound over the screen—shades of Brüno!). One night, at a bar, Rebecca proudly announced that she and Werner had married that afternoon at City Hall, flashing a ring. Suddenly he had a legal claim to the apartment, recollected our narrator with a palpable shudder (the entire ménage has since dispersed).

‘We both enjoy cooking, do so fairly regularly and don’t mind sharing.’—Couple’s ad for a lodger on Craigslist

Melissa, a 29-year-old bartender, and her husband have likewise been unlucky in their search for a roommate. They’ve been having trouble covering the full $2,400 rent of their East Village apartment ever since Melissa, who asked that we use only her first name since the roommate search is ongoing, was laid off from a full-time job and had to downgrade to a less lucrative two-nights-per-week gig. (They’re asking $1,100 a month for their “sunny” spare bedroom.)

The first guy they found was a recent divorcé who ended up bailing after two months because of a custody battle. Then they got a female roommate who neither unpacked nor spent a single night in the apartment during the five months that she “lived” there.

They still haven’t found the right match. But though a fair share of “drunk party kids” have answered their most recent Craigslist ad, Melissa said there’s no shame in being a married woman looking for a random housemate on the Internet.

“Most of my friends are in the same economic situation as I am,” she said. “I think enough people are having this struggle right now that it’s not a stigma at all. It’s almost expected.”

Indeed, despite the obvious difficulties, the Artful Lodger continues to poke his head into the New York domicile; and the New York domicile continues to welcome him.

Troll Craigslist (carefully), and you’ll find no shortage of couples soliciting strangers to split the rent with them. Like the “married couple (early 30s) with two cats looking to share our home” in Clinton Hill. Bonus for the potential roommate: “We both enjoy cooking, do so fairly regularly and don’t mind sharing.” Over in Park Slope, there’s a “professional couple and small, sweet dog” looking to rent out a “spacious and bright” bedroom on the ground floor of their duplex with a large patio and backyard. Why not?

And sometimes it all works out just beautifully.

Zahid Zaman, a 24-year-old software engineer, has already forged a friendship with the 28-year-old newlyweds whose Williamsburg apartment he moved into back in June for $1,050 a month, an enviable amount in that neighborhood, he said, given the location, the size of the apartment and the amenities, which include a large backyard.

Mr. Zaman’s room and board does come with rules: having to be quiet at night; not being able to bring guests over whenever he pleases. But, “the overall situation outweighs the downsides,” he said.

“We live in a time when patterns of behavior are much more up in the air, and therefore people fall into different communal ways of living,” said Ethan Watters, the author of Urban Tribes, a sociological account of the growing population of 25-to-39-year-olds who substitute close-knit social networks for family life. This usually involves having roommates until an embarrassing age. (Mr. Watters lived happily in “a house full of roommates” until just before getting married at 38, he said. He’s now 45 with two kids.)

When it comes to couples, married or otherwise, who live with roommates, Mr. Watters argued that for those who will likely spend a “huge portion” of their lives outside the traditional family structure, there’s something comforting about cohabiting with a third person.

“It reflects a fundamental desire for family,” he said.

And that can be powerful, especially considering how many young New Yorkers are far from their kin.

Allison Hemler, a 25-year-old Pratt grad student and intern at WNYC, had been living with her close friend, Emily, 28, a West Village–based HR consultant, and Emily’s boyfriend, Rory, 26, who works in N.Y.U.’s IT department, for about two years when they, and she, both started looking around for sweeter, albeit separate, apartment deals.

“But then I realized how much I loved my living situation, and I just asked them, ‘Hey, would you guys have any interest in moving somewhere else all together?’ And they were like, ‘We’ve been talking about it, and we want to keep living with you, too!’” said Ms. Hemler, in between sips of a Blue Moon at a bar a few blocks from the trio’s new two-bedroom duplex just across the river in downtown Jersey City. “Sometimes it almost feels like I’m in a relationship with their relationship.”

Meanwhile, back at the Bronstein-Hoge-Villars household, it seemed like things couldn’t get any more perfect.

The three cohabitants sat around speaking fondly of recent good times, like their weekly Saturday morning brunch ritual, and an impromptu gathering the previous weekend that got a little crazy when some tops came off in the 16-foot inflatable swimming pool they added to their backyard last month. Mr. Villars even talked about how much he enjoys spending time with Mr. Bronstein’s and Ms. Hoge’s parents whenever they come to town. (Awww!)

“We’ve spent a lot of quality time together,” he said, adding, with a touch of emotion, “I feel like I’m just very lucky to have them.”

jpompeo@observer.com