Luxe Life

Throughout all our rental property mishaps this weekend, we've spent quite a bit of time speculating about the nature of luxury. Experience the best of urban luxury proclaims the website of our first place. The 2 bedroom, 2 bath unit on the fifteenth floor with concrete ceilings was not as posh as I expected, especially given the Rolls Royce and Maserati we rolled our suitcases past as we navigated our way from visitor parking into the not-so-ritzy corridors of luxury living. The pool view was pleasant, as was the sunset over the western reaches of Atlanta, but still.

And when we were, well, evicted is such an ugly word, relocated to our current place, which is billed as Local Luxe Apartment Homes, we had no idea what to expect. This neighborhood adjoins Georgia Tech and the residents seem to mostly be people in their 20s. The wifi network in our unit is called Millennial Luxury, but again, the stained carpets in the hallways and the sparsely furnished apartment belies the name. No coffee maker? Is it because Millennials buy all their coffee by the cup? Perhaps, but what about shower curtain liners, dish towels, and beds that aren't broken? 

Still, the contemporary four over four buildings form a horseshoe around a pool with gas grills, ping pong table, and shuffle board, and just off the pool deck is a lounge with fireplace and plenty of comfy seating. Swanky? No. Fun for a party? Probably. And in these times? That would be a luxury, indeed.