Now this - is - classy. This is where us post-70s guys wanted to end up: in the apartment of some woman who looked like that rich slumming chick in “Urban Cowboy” (minus the wierd nose, maybe) or the lawyer woman from “Hill Street Blues” - whatever, as long as she had long hair parted in the middle, and wore Quiana dresses, and lived in sophisticated homes like this with Chuck Mangione on the stereo.

Nowadays, it looks like a hooker pad from “Soylent Green.”