The Super

S. the Super and J. have developed a "special relationship." Sort of.

S. calls himself "The Boss." He likes to strut around the block like he owns the place, but really, we are learning, people laugh at him. He was hired as our Super, but he pays other guys from the block to do his dirty work. Or we think he pays them, it's a little unclear. At any rate, there's a parade of guys who supposedly "work" for S., they're in the building all the time, which is a little... I dunno. One of them leers at me, it's a little creepy.

When we first moved in, S. was calling this place "My Building," and showing off to his friends and wife. The last few months, though, seems like S. is falling down on the job. Things have been sloppy, untended; and he's drunk more and more often. They fired him across the street at the warehouse where he used to pick up hours. The last couple weeks, he's been asking J. for money - "Five-dollars, man, to get some beer." Sometimes when I'm in the basement in the morning - (laundry, watering plants) he emerges, half-naked, from one of the unoccupied spaces down there: his house is down the street, but he seems to have moved in.

Early on, our landlord had him repair the ceiling in our bathroom where we had a leak, and also paint it. He was here every day for 4 days, then disappeared, then came back a week later, then finally finished, left a mess, and the paint job was really terrible. We ended up taking photos, sending it to the landlord, and he was pretty pissed. He had someone else come back and re-do it. Meantime, J. tried to explain to S. what was wrong with the paint job - look at this, man, yellow paint all over the fixtures and the ceiling; you gotta use tape. And you gotta clean your brushes after each coat, man. Gotta take care of your tools. S. didn't really give a shit. He's like a little boy, he doesn't want to be told what to do, he wants the quick and easy way out of everything. And always the victim.

J. can't stand this. J. is a natural coach and nurturer. He's got always-on paternal instincts. He's tough and sympathetic at the same time. He's been there, been on his own most of his life, never had money or attentive adults around to help. He gets S.'s mentality, so he can't leave it alone, he's always trying to engage in some kind of ass-kicking duel. He's given S. his business card and said, If you need money, if you need a job, come to my office. But S. never leaves the block. J. is serious about it, i.e. if S. takes that bit of initiative, if he shows up at his office in Manhattan, makes the effort to see what else is out there in the world and what skill he might be able to acquire, then he'll work with him. But S. won't leave the block. This is his kingdom.

Last night, S. was at it again, asking for five bucks, the two of them dueling it out as always. J. didn't part with his money, and we walked around the block with the pup. When we got back, S. was sending one of his minions off with 10 bucks, to buy beer. "Look a dis," he says to J., gloating about his score. Now S. wants J. to get a job for his daughter-in-law. "Tell her to call me at this number," J. says. But S. won't hear it. "Come here, come talk to her, help her out, you're right here, man, do something," he says, pulling J. down the street. It's 11:30 at night.

It feels kinda hopeless, but S. and J. do have some kind of mutual understanding. S. keeps asking because he knows that J. does actually give a shit. Last month, S. needed to get his scooter fixed, so J. loaded it up onto his truck and drove S. up to his mechanic-friend somewhere up north. S. gets pissed when J. challenges him to "put up" (and lately he's getting more and more pissed, maybe because he's more and more drunk). I foresee a blowout soon, maybe a chilly period. But it's a long road... in general. We keep at it, all of us. In our own ways.