04 March 2008

The Ashton



Alesha just moved to the neighborhood, and is camped out in Buckingham Village 2, or what the Paragon developers are now calling Buckingham Commons. She occupies the office suite on the first floor of the end unit at the east end of the first line of row houses.

She is an attractive woman, and will be here for years, working out of the house. Her job is to sell the upscale row houses.

I was curious, and on foot, so I stopped.

There is no place to park, so the happenstance of walking from Big Pink to the Hubrismobile body shop made me free and not a bit giddy, since this is the first day that felt like Spring.

I was in shirtsleeves and bow tie, a fistful of badges on the company lanyard around my neck. I was available for a pop-up adventure in real estate.

She was on the phone, doing a sales pitch about the neighborhood. I listed with half an ear as I filled out the visitor's card that would permit my access to the four floors. I dropped it on her desk, and pantomimed the act of going upstairs. She smiled, telling the person on the other end of the connection what a marvelous neighborhood it was, how everything was accessible.

I picked up one of the sales brochures and glanced in the powder room on the first floor. It had extravagant wallpaper and a low-flow toilet and handsome appointments.

I went upstairs, glancing at the list of marvelous appurtenances.

“There is an enormous amount of personal space,” read the flyer. “The Commons features “four stories of living” with two-car garages.”

I had to agree that the appointments and finishes were of stylish grace. I discovered that I was in the middle of the three sizes of units in The Commons. There is a Baby Bear size, and a Daddy Bear size that is more expansive.

Aleysha's model is the Mommy Bear version, and it felt just right. The glass that is so apparent outside is not as intrusive as I might have thought and the stainless steel appliances in the open kitchen areas were sleek and inviting.

Hardwood throughout, of course, dark and gleaming.

There are formal and casual dining areas on the second floor. A Master bedroom on the third, with a guest room tricked out in pink at the front. On the fourth floor is another large bedroom, with a deck on the back that features a nice view of the deck across the driveway to the back.

“There are so many attractions to Buckingham Commons, you won't want to wait to make one yours.”

I was on the point of agreeing when Alesha caught me coming down the stairs. She is a vivacious woman, confident and canny, with red hair and a powerful grip as she shook my hand. We had our interview in the kitchen area. First, the price. I inquired if this was “from the $700s,” like the sign said.

“No,” she said brightly. “This is the Belmont. Depending on the options, this would go from the high $800s without the options. This one would be in the mid-$900s. There is a larger model, the Carlyse, that would go for about $1.1 million with all the bells and whistles.”

She gestured toward the back windows, where the workers were still installing gracious-living fittings. “That is a Carlyse back there.”

I looked out at the maw of the two-car garage, which was certainly big enough for a Volvo and a BMW. “Do you actually have to back into your neighbor's garage to turn around?” I asked innocently.

I think that was about the time she realized that despite the bow tie, or perhaps because of it, I was not a serious candidate for a Carlyse, or even a Belmont. I think she had me sized up as an Ashton-level prospect, which put me at the entry-level.

We talked about the plans for the neighborhood. She is here for the long haul. They are building as they are selling, and looking beyond the recession. According to the plan, they are going to march south along the block, and then march north on the empty lot on the other side of the affordable housing in the middle of the block. They will not leap across George Mason Boulevard until that it done, and the two massive affordable housing blocks are complete.

She will probably change offices at that point, and leave The Commons behind.

I did ask about how it was all supposed to work, the Carlyse owners and nestled up against the residents of the subsidized County-owned units. She shrugged. That is not part of the sales pitch.

We did talk about the history. “Eleanor Roosevelt planted the first Oak tree here,” I offered, putting the history of the Buckingham Neighborhood on the table.

Aleysha topped me. “In 1947, Richard Nixon lived here. He was a freshman Congressman, and on the House Un-American Affairs Committee,” she said brightly.

“Imagine that,” I said. “Richard Nixon, right here. And Pat, and Julie, and the dog Checkers, right in Buckingham.”

I think he would have been an Ashton player then, too, but that just goes to show you that everyone needs a place to start in Washington. Dick Nixon was a man on the move, and he didn't stay here long like the rest of us.

Copyright 2008 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com