Serendipity & Apartments

I cannot conjure up anything more irritating than searching for an apartment in NYC. To add insult to injury you always hear tales of these lucky floozies, who magically procure an "amazing" space either rent free or close to paying nothing. It seems to always be women that experience these serendipitous events or people that need least to have such fortune bestowed upon them. We minions are left to sorting through the tedious craigslist postings as if we were shopping at TJ Maxx for that item that our friends will never believe we have found among the rubble (read, racks of pilled sweaters and irregular-sized pants). I remember living in my grandparents' basement and drowning my brain in beer describing my "NYC apartment hunting" experience. I tossed out phrases like rentdirect.com, urbansherpa.com, individual management companies, and the hours spent scouring the dreaded CL. With a smile the girl would say something annoying, as she sipped her cosmo, like, "Oh, I was so lucky. I just got this job at a hedge fund and moved into my parents friend's loft in TriBeCa. He's a traveling musician and said I can stay there as long as I want, rent free." Excuse me while I go spit up blood because that smile may as well have been a swift kick to my almond shaped reproductive organs. Am I jealous and bitter? Absolutely. If it wasn't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all.