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February 08, 2007
Drama
I got back from yoga last night around 6 and there was an NYPD van and a squad car in front of the building. I figured maybe it was shoplifting at the retail stores on the main floor. No, the property manager had terminated our superintendent, and he flipped. He grabbed all the keys for the apartments and all the doors in the building, plus the residents' phone numbers, and ran. They called his cell, and when he wouldn't tell them where he was, they called the police. The police issued a “no-trespass order”, locked the side entrance, and added extra security guards. When I walked into the building, George the concierge, called one of the police officers to escort me to our apartment. They checked everything, and he wasn't hiding in our place. It had crossed my mind that he would choose our place as a hide-out. Here’s why.
The building was being neglected, and I found out that he was doing finishing carpentry, painting, and doing lots of other work in apartments. He's not allowed to do more than unstop a toilet, or change some light bulbs. It’s an obvious conflict of interest. But he's been so involved doing larger projects that he was neglecting his duties. I thought this was a little inappropriate, so I brought it to the attention of the management company. Turns out so did a bunch of other owners.
The property manager appeared yesterday after lunch, and knocked on the door. We had a nice visit, and she told me what was about to happen. The super found out she was in the building, and freaked. Later, she had obviously confronted him about some of the complaints, because he cornered me when I walked into the lobby. He was yelling at me, telling me that I was a liar, and that he wasn’t “installing” quarter-round in three apartments, he had only “recommended” the concept. Funny, because when he asked me if we wanted to “jump on the bandwagon”, and bragged about his purchase of a brand new pneumatic nail gun, I declined, and told him at the time that I thought those were projects well beyond his scope as our super. I didn’t want to get involved until one morning I tried to toss our garbage down the chute, and I couldn’t get through the door because the garbage room was jammed full. I popped down to the lobby to see Bridgette, and asked if she could get the super to clean it up, and she informed me that he was not in the building, but she would point it out. In less than 12 hours, he had gone from trying to be my best friend, to be my worst enemy.
Apparently, there were lots of other shenanigans going on in the building. Like, he wouldn’t let in brokers who refused to pay an “access fee”, and kick-back deals with appliance distributors, closet organizers, and even Home Depot. The property manager found all his little agreements.
At 9:01 yesterday morning, the phone rang, and it was him. Accusing me of lying, etc, etc. Said his attorney will be in touch with me. Whatever.
Last night, I had the locks changed.
Yikes. Life in New York!
Posted by dave at February 8, 2007 11:49 AM