In the market for a new pad? Well what would you say if I told you there’s a place by bankers, for bankers?

Well not by a banker exactly, but definitely for bankers. Andrews Balazs, the former club promoter turned developer, has a home for you at a place called Beaver House. Let’s just hope you’re clever enough to get the joke.

“I see the buyers here as hard-driving young Wall Streeters who work late at the office, eat out a lot and would welcome coming home to a like-minded community,” Balazs tells the NYTimes.

In a recent piece in the New Yorker, we catch a profile of a potential buyer:

“‘When I first heard about this place, I thought, I’ve got to live here,’ a prospective resident said, sitting on a purplish daybed in a model one-bedroom that had been set up in a former bank that is serving as Beaver House’s sales office/occasional night club. He introduced himself as William. Another guest, Helen, asked his last name. He replied, ‘That’s Gaines—like capital gains.’”

And more from Gaines:

“‘I can grill steaks, but I like to go to Whole Foods and get those little salmon puffs when company is over,’ he said. ‘I usually make vodka drinks, and play house music, or some slow Janet Jackson.’”

In the New Yorker piece, Balazs tells the reporter that Beaver House will not have a wine cellar, among other amenities (like a glass-bottomed hot tub — can you say CHEESE?), because “at this price point, people aren’t interested,” but before you lose interest they will serve champagne in the movie theater.

Apparently, these are the types of BSDs that are interested in Beaver St.

But a few thoughts: do all of those hard charging Wall Streeters really want to spend all their time in a building filled with people just like them? Let’s give bankers a little credit, people.

Given that the motto of the place seems to be: Live Here, Get Laid (for those of you in the mood for a little soft porn action check out the official website, where anime-style sketches — where the picture comes from), one thing these marketers might not have thought out is that there’s a real danger if this place succeeds. Let’s say this place becomes fabbotown hookup central. Do you really want to risk the chance of running into your f__kbuddy in the private party room, or while you’re doing laps?

I don’t think so.

Related:
Attack of the Zombie Bankers