Oh, Ockham, what memories you spurred. My first serious boyfriend lived at 18 Christopher in that top-most apartment (with the dormer windows); we seriously considered buying the apartment and keeping it for rental income when we moved to San Francisco for the then-unheard-of price of ten thousand dollars. (sigh) The ceilings are scarely over seven feet, maybe 7-6. The rooms are incomprehensibly tiny. But it's a real charmer of a place. The "skinniest house in NY" was abandoned for a long time; it's nice to see someone pulled it back before it got torn down or made into too-expensive condos. The cigar store is a model of marketing compression: you can barely turn around when you walk in there. Happy times.......