The difficulty lies in getting past the doorman.

The difficulty lies in getting past the doorman.

Kafka had a rather well-known short parable and tired entitled "Vor dem Gesetz", about a guy who spends his whole life trying to get through a door blocked by a bureaucratic and frustrating doorman who whispered in his ear at the moment of his death,  "This door was meant for you alone."

I have a doorman like that. No amount of Christmas tipping will convince him that the purpose of a doorman is in fact to maintain the door, open it, and close it. I fed him, I've given him jewels, exposed myself seductively to him, I have paid his medical bills. I have even hired a doorman for him. And a doorman for that doorman too. 

The landlord is thinking of adding another door. If that happens, I may have to move, but it would involve going out of the door.  

My neighbor in 8F has no problem getting around town. I asked him what his secret was, but he looked at me as if I were asking a personal question. 8F must have some connections I lack, for he figured out how to get the window grate off, which is too difficult for me.

I mean, if you think the government is bad, the super is worse. If you want to get the super to do something, you need to fill out a work order slip and leave it on his cork board, and the cork board is already filled with work orders. At least I'm withholding my rent. Maybe that's why I got such lousy service.