Don't take this away from us. (kletch, flickr)

Are nosy New Yorkers in danger of losing one of their favorite weekend pastimes? The New York Times sent a reporter to investigate whether open houses—a staple of so many Sunday afternoons—are soon-to-be scuttled relics of the pre-internet age. You know, when people began their days by reading actual newspapers.

Brokers, at least, would be happy to abandon the ritual—a practice that is as detested by real estate community as it is beloved by the common man. After all, in a city where so few of us can afford to buy, open houses are downright therapeutic, an opportunity to fantasize about a future that doesn't involve endless rent hikes and increasingly diminutive apartments.

“It’s a form of entertainment,” Michele Kleier, the president of Gumley Haft Kleier told The Times. “It’s cheaper than Broadway.”

Elaine Clayman, a managing director of Brown Harris Stevens, said that brokers who want to attract serious buyers hold open houses on weeknights, a time generally considered so miserable that only the truly driven will turn up: “On the weekends they may come because they saw a movie in the neighborhood. It’s a Sunday sport.”

After all, brokers note, those actually in the market to buy can better spend their time scouting possibilities online via video/photo tours. Or their broker can. They can set up appointments. They don't need to schlep around the borough pushing a baby carriage.

But what about the rest of us? The ones who just want to see how other New Yorkers live? Who want to connect with our fellow man by checking out what he keeps in his closets and judging him based on his wall art?

Things may look bad, but not all hope is lost. Because guess what? Sellers want to have us in their homes, snooping in their closets, judging their taste in books and decor. The Times reports that the continued existence of such events is basically all the sellers' fault—who misguidedly believe that an open house is a great way to find a buyer—and pester their brokers to spend their Sundays tying balloons to front doors and herding guests through their house.

They even leave all kinds of nice things for their visitors, The Times tells us: candles, fake flowers, never-read books and an apparently ubiquitous black and white photo of a solitary tree propped (never hung) against a wall. Do they really believe open houses will work? Or are they making an offering to their fellow New Yorkers, feeling a kinship in their desire for a bigger, better place to live? Are they cognizant of the despair that would grip the city if New Yorkers were reduced to spending sunny Sunday afternoons in their apartments, huddled over virtual tours of bright two-bedrooms with hardwood floors that they know they'll never set foot in?

kvelsey@observer.com

But Corcoran, whose site is still touting "Open House Day" on Sunday, has not responded to any of The Observer's questions about whether the brokerage is still planning on showing houses in a hurricane.

Hey, it's a tough market out there...

Corcoran just gave us a tweet's up and it looks like "Open House Day" is most definitely off for Sunday; "Hi Thornton, we're just in the process of removing them from the site today. It's safe to say they'll all be canceled this weekend"

tmcenery@observer.com

The Observer has already received one email from a broker canceling all showings for a John Street condo this Sunday, citing the weather as a cause, and in a conversation with another broker at a different brokerage, we were told to expect to see more cancellations tomorrow.

So, if you were planning on finding your dream home this weekend by dropping in on some open houses, check in before you leave the house or you might end up doubly soaked.

tmcenery@observer.com

The lot, overgrown with weeds and rimmed by a chain-link fence with a barbed-wire coil, formerly contained part of the Domino sugar refinery. The "development," which was approved by City Planning earlier this month, and which is slated to take 10 years to complete, will be a luxury residential building, much like the others springing up around Williamsburg's north side.

The neighborhood is not beautiful. It seems to enjoy the worst of two worlds, either old and run-down or new and, as mortgage loan officer Mark Friedman said, "cookie-cutter." Still, people want to move there. For some, it's the only place they want to be.

In a $749,000 two-bedroom at 125 North 10^th Street, broker Stefani Shock prepared for a six-hour open house. The new condo development is selling well, she said. Her firm is closing about six apartments a month. "We're at the finish line," she said.

Ms. Shock described prospective buyers in Williamsburg as "artists with a budget"—but apparently not a huge budget. "For people who want space but can't afford Manhattan, this is the default neighborhood," she said. Does that mean they're settling for less?

"I mean 'default' in a good way."

Some see Williamsburg as a second best. Ayelet Levron, 33, a software developer from Israel, who now lives in Astoria, looked at a $575,000 two-bedroom at 5 Roebling Street. She aims to save money. "It's not Manhattan, but it's close," she said of the neighborhood. "You can get much more here."

But Ms. Levron may be an exception. Prices, which aren't actually that low, are not the neighborhood's main draw.

Steve Leven, 42, and his wife Mira Trezza, 35, wandered around a $610,000 two-bedroom at 268 Wythe Avenue. Mr. Leven, the owner and founder of Irving Farm Coffee, who has lived in New York City for 20 years and now makes his home in the West Village, isn't looking outside Williamsburg.

"It's close to the subway, a little industrial," he said of the neighborhood. "We really like the energy, the wide-open spaces."

Ms. Trezza, who hails from Bulgaria and works with Mr. Leven at Irving Farm Coffee, corrected him.

"We like the hipsters," she said.

Mr. Leven rolled his eyes. But Ms. Trezza was on to something. It's the residents, and not much else, that make north Williamsburg a desirable (or undesirable) community.

Down Wythe Avenue, the sound of vuvuzela horns spilled out to the sidewalk from Zebulon, a bar where several dozen Billyburgers sat, stood or perched in front of a television showing the Brazil-Cote d'Ivoire soccer game. It was still the first half, and Brazil led with one goal. Lucio, the Brazil team captain, took a dramatic dive.

The onlookers jeered. "Oh, pobrecito!" someone shouted.

Farther north, on Bedford Avenue near McCarren Park, a mustachioed 20-something wearing a blue beanie and snug khaki shorts stood on a ladder and hosed down a building's brick wall. An older man, passing by, chanced into the crossfire. "Asshole!" he shouted in accented English, chasing the outburst with more obscenities. The kid seemed not to hear.

Back at 29 South Third, Mr. Ferrara showed Ari Shimada, 38, and her husband Atsushi Yokada, 45, a series of one-bedroom condos. Mr. Yokada is a chef at 1 or 8, a Japanese restaurant in Williamsburg, and the couple is moving to Williamsburg from Manhattan to accommodate him. Ms. Shimada doesn't like the idea of commuting to midtown for her work as an accountant, but she's open-minded.

"Most likely this is out of our budget, but we just wanted to see," Ms. Shimada said, standing in a $636,000 one-bedroom.

Williamsburg's new developments aren't cheap, and visually they stand out from the landscape. Mr. Friedman, the mortgage officer, greeted prospective buyers at 66 North First Street. He acknowledged that some of his clients are turned off by ultra-modern exteriors but said that when they step inside, "they're always impressed."

Alison, a prospective buyer at 5 Roebling, who wouldn't give her last name, echoed those reservations.

"Everything's very new. You know, modern condos," she said, riding the elevator down to the lobby after leaving the open house. "There's no old buildings. Which is nice, but..." She paused. "It's just new."

Outside Vinnie's pizzeria on Bedford Avenue, a chalkboard advertised vegan slices. The place has been in business since 1960, but the current owners, Jacob Petrera and two of his friends, bought it three years ago and added "specialty slices" to the menu.

"Me and my buddies started doing this in college—trying crazy styles," Mr. Petrera said. "We bought this place and kind of brought in our own flavors."

The Observer sampled the vegan "chicken parm" pizza. The chicken, though fake and itself new to the area, was delicious.

walden@observer.com

These days, Mr. Jafri might hear crickets more often than he'd like. It was the Sunday before the European markets began to tumble, during peak open house hours, and the buyer traffic through Brooklyn's newer towers was slow. Just a few days earlier, The New York Times had declared that "the credit crisis and the turmoil on Wall Street are bringing New York's real estate boom to an end."

About 20 people currently live at 20 Bayard, the concierge informed me, and four units are available for purchase: two one-bedrooms in the neighborhood of $600,000 and two larger two- and three-bedrooms for over $1 million each. Royale Concierge offers a variety of amenities for an additional price, including dog grooming, maid services, massage therapy and dry cleaning.

The building overlooks McCarren Park. And the spectacular views of Manhattan, Mr. Jafri assured me, would not disappear behind any new buildings that spring up along the waterfront, which is zoned for a mere six stories.

On my heels was a woman in her 50s, looking to downsize from her three-bedroom apartment nearby because her daughter would soon be off to college. She didn't wince when Mr. Jafri gave her the price tags on the largest apartments, perhaps because she was looking to rent out her current three-bedroom to pay the mortgage on a new, smaller place.

Impressed by the crickets and the views, she stuck around weighing her options. Mr. Jafri seemed excited that he wasn't twiddling his thumbs in an empty model apartment without even a real TV to keep him company.

"Today has been slow, I don't know why," said Rawle Howard, a broker with the Corcoran Group, across town in the living room of a $749,000 three-bedroom at 647 Washington Avenue in Prospect Heights.

I was the only person there and we got to talking about the economy. The former Lehman Brothers employee seemed pretty happy to have made the leap into real estate, even if the boom has come to an end.

"I think that [the recession] is going to be longer than anyone expected and I think people will really start to focus on what they can actually afford," Mr. Howard told me.

At the Modern Post, a new typical glass tower just next door, a young couple were the only potential buyers for a cramped $789,000 duplex penthouse studio loft with an enormous terrace overlooking the surrounding three- and four-story buildings. The young woman quickly noticed the narrow staircase was not high-heel friendly, and her beau remarked that the second terrace, off the lofted bedroom with Manhattan views, was tiny. Even if they could afford it, they didn't want it.

From the roof deck it was possible to feel like the ruler of an auto repair kingdom, with mechanic shops and junk yards dotting Washington and nearby Atlantic Avenue like plots of farm land. Soon after, we hopped in the elevator, leaving an almost desperate broker behind.

THIS IS BROOKLYN'S REAL estate dilemma. Extra special amenities played an integral role in luring buyers when neighborhood amenities were lacking, but with prices still sky high and memories of the borough's boom fading fast, it seems the only reasonable options are to start cutting prices or to offer condos as rentals. Both of these things are already happening. A pretty kitchen backsplash and walk-in closets just won't cut it anymore.

A young broker named Jonathan was sitting on a stack of concrete slabs beyond plywood walls at the Isabella, yet another location on Washington Avenue near the Fulton Street C train station. The building boasts 63 units--four of which are in contract--a concierge, gym and roof deck. The building is scheduled to be completed in February.

"Bad timing?" I asked him.

"If you have money, it's not a bad time to buy," he responded, as I was signing a release form to tour the building, which is still far from completion. He had been chatting with two other brokers, looking bored, as I approached the building.

After walking through a concrete maze of stairs and hallways filled with construction materials and even a dust-covered wheel barrow, we entered a two-bedroom model apartment with two bathrooms on the second floor. Out of the large windows was a quintessential view of historic brownstone Brooklyn. The mortgage broker was comfy on the plush couch, surrounded with stock-footage-filled picture frames. She seemed surprised to see us walk in, and briefly looked up from her BlackBerry to chat until Jonathan informed her I wasn't actually in the market for an apartment.

A map in the brochure for the Isabella had the popular Q/B train line on Dean Street and Sixth Avenue, rather than it's actual location four blocks farther away on Flatbush and Seventh avenues. It's safe to say that nobody living on Washington Avenue between Fulton Street and Atlantic Avenue is regularly going to walk all the way to the Q/B at Seventh. A lot of minor details factor into a buyer's decision; and brokers are going to put the best face they can on any neighborhood by giving the impression that the distance to transportation and nightlife is less than it might be. Some buildings and neighborhoods just have more to sell than others.

BACK IN WILLIAMSBURG, BEYOND 20 Bayard's view of the BQE, sits 22 Monitor Street, a four-story building closest to the Graham Avenue stop on the L line. On the corner was a handwritten sign announcing the open house where apartments start at $379,000.

Chester, an older kindly man and the owner of the building, nervously approached me down a long narrow hallway as I walked in the front door. He greeted me without making eye contact or saying much of anything besides his first name; and let me wander freely through the duplex ground-floor apartment in the front of the building.

The apartment was spacious, with two large common rooms on either floor, two bathrooms and a decently large bedroom with a glass door looking out onto a private outdoor area. It was clear, though, that the materials were cheap, and the only extra investment made on the property was the modern kitchen tiling and appliances.

Chester told me that traffic had been slow all day, and that he has yet to sell any of the building's eight units. With fewer amenities and a location off the beaten track of Williamsburg's heart, he seemed a bit worried that the apartments might not move, or at least not soon. But the duplex, at $499,000, was the most expensive unit in the building. The majority were smaller units, with balconies, for $399,000.

"They have been on the market for two months," Chester said nervously in a thick Spanish accent.

I asked him why he thinks they haven't moved yet.

"People are afraid because of the market. I hope it goes back to normal soon."

But I'm not sure anyone knows what normal is anymore.