These signs appeared all over my building last Saturday afternoon.  Not sure if our superintendent quit or if our landlord paid a visit and saw the current state of disrepair around here and went ballistic.

I used to really like our super.  She lived on my floor and when I moved here she kept the place up well.  I can’t really remember when this happened, maybe about a year ago, she and her boyfriend bought a house and she moved out – but she continued to be our super. 

It doesn’t really take a rocket scientist to figure out why this was a very bad idea.  There’s no way you can stay invested enough to take care of a place you don’t live in.  Soon enough the dust started piling up all over the place, the vacuuming started happening a little less often.  At this point, there are corridor lights out, the machines in the laundry room are absolutely disgusting and it is very obvious that the place hasn’t been vacuumed in months.  Our locker room steadily became a fire hazard as people started storing crap all over the place instead of in their lockers.  Now that light is busted (you can’t pull the chain down to turn it on) so it’s not only a fire hazard but a pitch-black death trap.

For the longest time there’s been a bit of plastic laying near the stairs on my floor.  I thought it was the wrapper from a fortune cookie.  One day, I finally decided to bend down and take a look at it – it’s a frigging package for those Rocket candies.  So I can actually date that litter right back to Halloween.  Halloween!!

It’s a fucking shame.  This is such a beautiful old building and it deserves to be treated better. Unfortunately, it only takes one moron who doesn’t pick up whatever they dropped, or to start piling crap up in the locker room for everyone to start following suit.  Granted, I could have picked up the Rocket wrapper at any point over the last three-ish months – but if I did how would I know how long it’s been since the third floor has been cleaned?  It was investigative journalism, I swear.

I briefly considered becoming the “superintenant”.  I am super and I am a tenant.  Why the hell not?  I am sure I would get a massive decrease on my rent – good for saving.  Then I remembered the six giant garbage and recycling bins that need to be lugged up and down the back steps twice a week, the getting up early to shovel the snow, and the being around to show prospective tenants apartments and provide keys.  Bleeeaah.  I think I’ll stick with my full-price rent.

While I’m sort of sad about the fate of our super, she’s not a bad person after all, it’s a relief to know the “Sandringham” will be restored to its former beauty in the very near future.  Watching it decline has been, well, devastating.

3 thoughts on ““Superintenant”

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