The Super is not so super

Is there some kind of a school for building superintendents, where they learn to be complete and total asshats? Think about it. There's a reason why the word 'superintendent' comes with a whole lot of baggage. He's either 1) extorting you for repairs 2) a lech 3) useless or 4) all of the above.

A superintendent on Spring Break

When you live in the same building for as long as I have, you start to have quite the laundry list of complaints about your super. When I first moved in at the age of 21, he was all over my shet. Everything got fixed so fast, I was like "Damn! This is the greatest building in the world! Whoever says building supers are lech-ey, useless, extorting asshats...well, they got it all wrong!"

I did say I had just moved in.

I now have a long history with John, my super. From the time he tried to pick me up in the elevator to battling it out with him for a space heater, while we had no heat and it was below 0 degrees outside, it's been fun and games throughout. Usually at my expense.

Close. Verrrrrry close.

What kills me is that inducing a straight answer from the man is dreaming the Impossible Dream. One could have a near nervous breakdown trying to get some semblance of affirmative or negative. Behind that blank stare and filthy Yankee baseball hat, there is a man trained with military precision to always stick to the greys.

I present to you this morning. They are painting each apartment door in our building. Since they need the edges painted, we all have to confirm the date they requested so we can leave them open while they do it.

The letter we received says next Wednesday, a notice in our hallway says next Thursday. So, like any person would do, I tell the doorman. He tells me to talk to John. I already know where this is going to go with The Master of Evasion. He's not worried about giving you the right or wrong answer, he just doesn't want to tell you.

This morning, I spy him in the lobby. I watch him go back and forth with another neighbor who plays the "How soon is soon?" game with him over repairs in her apartment.

Her - "How soon is soon?"

John - "Soon."

Her - "Soon, like one day, or soon as in one week?"

John - "I don't know. Soon."

She walks away while throwing her hands up in the air in disgust. Damn, he's good.

But I was ready for him. I was gonna get an answer!

I approach him.

"John, theletterwegotsaysthedoorsarebeingpaintednextWednesday... (GASP)andthenoticeinthehallwaysaystheyarebeingpainted... (GASP) nextThursday,whichisit? WednesdayorThursday? ThursdayorWednesday?"

HA!

He looked at me, shook his shoulders, and adjusted his baseball hat. Uh oh.

"Which came first, the letter or the notice?" Oh no, the superintendent version of 'The Chicken or the Egg'!

"The letter."

"Then use that then."

"But if the notice went up after, does that override the letter?"

"I don't know."

"Who am I supposed to ask about this, if not you?"

"You are supposed to ask me."

"But you're not giving me an answer."

"I just told you."

He then repeats back to me my story about what the letter says versus the notice. I wait for an answer at the end. I don't get one, just him saying he has to go unclog a toilet on 12.

"John! I need to know this. C will be home only one of those days."

"If it's on the other day, I can watch the place for you."

Oh no, unh unh. I can totally see him like, nicking one of my bras or sniffing my shoes or something. I back down, stunned. I think he's won. "I'll figure it out."

So there you go. And I still have no idea when they're painting the doors.

Why can't my super be like Schneider? He rocked bell-bottoms and looked like the missing 7th member of the Village People.