My heart goes out to all inhabitants of my apartment building, as it is managed, owned, and run by heartless and ignorant people. I thought for a while maybe all supers just don't care, but I hear stories of people actually having good experiences, so I try to refrain from clumping all apartment building managers together. See? Shying away from stereotypes!
And I know it might sound bad, but when I hear my neighbors complain, it makes me feel like part of the team. "We are suffering together," not "I am being singled out and slowly being forced from the building." A feeling of camaraderie every once in a while is just plain refreshing! But this guys note taped up in my elevator two nights ago may be a little extreme.
I don't know what scares me more: The thought of a psychotic loose one floor below me, or the knowledge that this guy talks to me every day. Mr. Forty-Something year old man with wife and baby daughter and basset hound, I am scared of you. Cancer and death? Really?
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