Perhaps I live in Oz, but I give strictly from the heart, so when the annual list of building workers is shoved under my door with how many years of service they’ve put in, my wallet and I wince.
Not very Pollyanna-ish, I know, but hear me out.
I never had doormen before, living in an apartment pretty much abandoned by its owner, so gun-to-your-head giving is new to me, and it’s not as if I’m not my kind, generous self on a regular basis, because I am.
I buy coffee for them. Make it late at night for the midnight to eight man, feeling for him down in that drafty doorway. I even bought them a heater.
My point is, now I HAVE TO GIVE them cash, and frankly, I’m resentful.
I’m not a cash giv’in kinda gal. It’s cold and impersonal, along with having zip to do with Christmas. Where does it say Santa handed out 50s as he slid down the chimney?
These entitled men remind me of sharks circling a pool. My super, who as a friend said, farts and you have to pay him, is a very ungracious sort of person. Never says thank you while acting as if he’s always doing you a great, big favor. He doesn’t want random acts of kindness, like the heating pad I bought him when he hurt his shoulder falling off a ladder, or the brand new rug that was too big for my living room that now graces his. And the 20s one gives him throughout the year apparently don’t count.
No, he and his merry men want cold cash, now.
Think Jesse James, with tools.
I will comply, but with a very empty heart reminding me that, without grace, it doesn’t much matter what you give since obligation replaces love that alas, is conspicuously absent.
See, if it were left to me, they’d all get cookies, scarves and warm socks, not envelopes, but that’s just little, ole Connecticut me, dashing through the snow, in a one horse open sleigh, so to speak…in a twinset of course.
Sigh. 
SB
Susannah, does it really specify cash? OMG!
I guess if they demand payola for working you could soften the blow by thinking of it as your yearly fee for their services.
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Let me put it this way…YES..baked goods, even wine, not appreciated. I know this from when I first moved in. No one said thank you, and I wasn’t even living here yet. How bold to give someone a list who they hadn’t even met. If I don’t comply, the next time I need help, it will be two days before it arrives.
New York, it can be so snarky and charmless. sigh
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I can’t help but wonder what happens if you refuse?
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My refrigerator will be floating down Fifth with a geranium in it.
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Is rule of law cancelled in the USA?
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Rule of law? Please elaborate there Mick. I’m just a Thing girl with a model’s education.
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A civilised society of law abiding citizens, who respect one-another’s rights and property. Sounds like your reverting to the wild west!
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Hmm…an interesting observation. Makes me want to rent Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid with High Noon as a chaser. 🙂
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Do not forsake me, oh my darling………..;-)
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I will not.
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Yikes! Isn’t this extortion? You talk kindly about the door folks. Would they really do that?
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I’m being my sarcastic self, but the truth is, I wouldn’t be so popular and they wouldn’t hurry to help me. It’s like that in most doormen buildings I’m afraid. For 39 years I never had anyone, not even a super, so she will try to look at the good. I did buy my mailman, Danny, socks. He seemed pleased.
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Perhaps in the very distant past they were gifted oddball things and ended up with too many scarves, socks, whatever. For some people giving cash instead of shopping makes it easier. Then again, I never had a doorman!
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It’s the law of doorman land. They’d love a scarf, providing it came with an envelope tucked in it.
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BTW giving me a cash gift wouldn’t make you popular or unpopular with me. It’s the kindness of the person that counts.
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In Oz perhaps.
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Dust off your ruby red slippers.
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I’ll have to get them out from the back of the closet behind my fairy costume.
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They take the good out of the season . I know a guy who is a doorman on Central Park West he makes thousands over the holiday period and I am not exaggerating ! The union they belong to 32b is one of the best in the city . They are paid very well and have the best of benefits . It’s sucks to be blackmailed like that , they should be thankful that they have it as good as they do ! They should be ashamed of themselves .
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Yeah but, you know how it is. MORE MORE MORE. And you’re right about their benefits. Pension, paid vacations. It’s not as though they work for peanuts all year round. However, it’s New Yawk…the gimme gimme capital of the world.
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Not certain what to say here. If I was one of the workmen, you might feel more giving because I WOULD HAVE let you know how very much all was appreciated all year and, in fact, might have made it a point to tell you to ignore that letter about the 50s. Also, and this is the “old charmer”, having someone like you bring me coffee and such all year – how could I ask for anything more?
Scott
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Cash baby. They want cash, not coffee with milk and sugar. sigh
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Well, then, they aren’t looking very well. Keep your spirits up. You are more than welcome to drop by here and bring a cup of coffee. I will respond with dinner.
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It will pass, it’s okay. Thanks though.
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Ur Welcm
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I agree with you. At that point it isn’t giving because you want to show appreciation to them, it’s little more than a surcharge on your rent. Not really the sort of thing to make anyone happy to give.
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I LOVE giving, I do, when it’s my idea, at my own pace. But, this is what’s expected in doormen buildings throughout the city. There’s a 12 Step slogan: Expectations are premeditated resentments. I think it’s true. Thanks.
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I would feel really snarky if I were pressured like that. You did the right thing in letting off steam here. Write more if it makes you feel any better.
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I’ll pad those envelopes with a forced smile and will try to summon grace while presenting them
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Let me guess. You have to provide all the envelopes, too. I’d lick them with spit.
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Yes, we get a list with how many years they’ve been here so you put them either in bank envelopes or Xmas cards. I of course will give them cards. I can’t do the bank thing. Not my style. I yam what I yam, to quote Popeye the Sailor.
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I feel the same way when I get the dreaded card from my garbage collector who I’ve never met and the mail delivery person who often gets confused and leaves me the neighbor’s mail. It’s a “Please give me money” card disguised as a holiday greeting card. It’s irritating.
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That’s so funny about the garbage collector. See, things could be worse, since the city trash is governed by the mob. Or maybe I’m reading too much. Yes, those cards say, tip please, or else. It’s a shakedown Gail, with candy canes.
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My mother’s place does this too. However, the management put a 10.00 cap on the giving. I think it’s so sad that you would have to worry about having a lightbulb changed based on a fucking forced Christmas gift! They’re NOT Jesus and YOU’RE not married to one of the Wisemen!
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Unless it’s Moe, Larry or Curly. 🙂 I love when you curse. Lifts my spirit right up. 🙂
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Sometimes it’s just necessary … lol! It makes me feel better too.
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We were both sailors in another life…matey.:)
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Susannah,
Long time no see. Merry Christmas to you from an old admirer.
M
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To you too Michael.
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