Joi B.
Yelp
I am absolutely dazzled by this place.
Yes, you're reading right. This vegetarian for half her life (and vegan at that!) is dazzled by the Livestock Exchange Building. In fact, I write this review from one of the arm chairs that are set up in the third floor lobby with the sounds of the Latenight Callers from down the hall as they are shooting their very first music video.
I will have you know, I entered with trepidation, fully worrying about the following scenario: I'd be haunted by the ghosts of Wilbur, Babe and the cows who had finally "come home" to stay... not to mention the sounds of the lambs who had broken their silence... and finally I'd leave screaming, "out damn spot" as I tried to wipe the figurative blood of scores and scores of dead animals off my hands.
All because I wore a pair of leather boots today.
It's incredible, really. Shaking off thoughts of this building's role in the animal holocaust, slowly but surely I became enchanted by this building. Suddenly, I find myself dying to be working in an office again... even after swearing that I'd never do so again. After reading this review, you may never think of "office" being synonymous with soulless florescent lit cubicle maze again.
This building is not restored. It's just the way it was "back in the day" (I believe it was built and in operation for the past 100 years). You walk in and your heels click on the tile floors. You walk into the *marble* bathrooms with wooden doors on the stalls (that latch!) and glance in the mirrors to fix your victory rolls. You throw open the wooden door with the frosted glass to your office and walk across hard wood to your desk with a 100 pound iron typewriter and dream away your day as you clack clack clack on the keys
I know, I'm romanticizing a time when people didn't have the internet to help them get through a dreary day. Imagine.
What's the catch? There seems to be not a single one.
You have a variety of space options. You have tons of vintage ambiance. You have green glass lighting fixtures. You have the West Bottoms outside your window to glance at and admire (at least I do). You have a glamorous antique lobby, in fact each floor has its own little lounge area complete with the original furniture. You have some of the original signage advertising (a bit creepy, I can't lie) the livestock inventory. You have. CHEAP RENT. For real, cheap rent.
So you'd still have to work, you're thinking. Or, if you're a dreamer like me, you might rent out a tiny, dirt cheap office space to hone your craft, lose yourself in attempts at creative genius, think up grand schemes, fabulous adventures and thrilling plans. I half want to start some kind of business-any kind of business- just so I can have an office here and dress up like a 1940s young executive every day. Don't blame me for being fanciful. I'm experiencing the afterglow of discovery of yet another a Kansas City treasure.