Yes, head there now!

Turns out you weren't that far away from...Bridgette? Bonnie? Aw, who cares. If she puts' me up, or points me in the right direction to a secure roof, bed, and 4 walls, it's all the same. You re-read the note to make sure:

"56 Cumrag Ave. App. 415 I'll leave my front door unlocked and my backdoor open ;) XOXO"

Hmm, not much info, but the sign on the corner suggested you were in the right spot, at least. 62...60...58... AH! 56.

The building itself was a rather non-descript brownstone row house, the type that abuts it's neighbors with common walls, but is visually distinct from them. On the left, the building was of similar design, but made from white granite on the first floor, while subsequent floors were grey limestone, the 6th floor being built into a faux dormer style roof. On the right, the building was of a more modern construction, the first floor being converted into a bodega or coffee shop, (which could be worth your time to check out later) with a large purple and red awning jutting out over the side walk. Above that, it looked like each apartment had its own small balcony, a couple occupied by women. The one on the third floor was a southeast Asian lady nonchalantly chattering away with a friend on her cellphone, leaning on the railings so her bronze and mocha tits were hanging out in space, one hand pressing her phone to her ear and the other, lifting up occasionally to bring the lit cigarette she was limply holding to her lips for a drag. The other, on floor 4, was a tall, slim young woman wearing sunglasses, a sun hat, (and literally nothing else,) sunning herself in a lounge chair. Her long, curly orange hair cascading out from underneath her hat, and over her right shoulder until it disappeared behind one of her large milky white, pink puffy areolaed titties. She had one leg lifted slightly showing her curly thatched carpet did indeed very much match her drapes.

If this ends up be "home" for the time being, at least the neighbors are easy on the eyes, you think to yourself.

You climb the stoop and try the door, which is not locked, but stiffly opens in the way that belies the fact that it has a gas shock auto closer on it, because the thumb latch quit working properly a couple decades ago. To the left some stairs lead down to what you assume are basement apartments, and on the right stairs lead up to the upper floors. There is also an old service elevator about halfway down the hall, though it looks to be one of those old ones that need to be manually operated with a key and a twist lever, and barely has enough room for one person in it.

So you begin going up the stairs. You could continue to the slut you came here for, or you could try other doors and see what a little home invasion might bring.

(Each floor has a lay out that suggests the numbering system works like this: first number is floor number, second number is a binary 1 or 2 which denotes which side of the building the apartment is on, 1 for the front, 2 for the back, with the actual apartment number running clockwise from 1 to 6 starting in the back left of the building. This means there are 46 apartments in this building, as the front door occupies the 115 slot and the 015 slot is under the stoop, so must be the laundry room.)