The Real.Est List
I'm your doorman, not your bodyguard
I am not the only doorman who occasionally stands outside the door and puffs out my chest just to let anyone that walks by or enters the building know, “I run this s___t here.”
After all, I am the protector of the lobby, keeper of expensive clothing and packages, guardian of money dropped off or waiting to be picked up, holder of keys to private apartments worth many, many times what I earn in a year.
But does my $500-a-week salary motivate me to get into a tussle with someone because you want to feel safe? It's bad enough we doormen have to deal with remembering names, moving heavy things around, babysitting, dog walking, etc....
Now we also have to knock people out on occasions?
Ah, no, I don’t think so.
Yet some of you persist in thinking that we are your personal bodyguards waiting to assist you with your personal perils: deranged ex-boyfriends and girlfriends, strangers and homeless people, etc.
Some of you have gone far enough to hand us pictures of people who are not allowed into the building for fear that this person is a threat. If you are so afraid, why do you think a doorman is going to get involved?
Case in point: Once, holding a parking spot for one of you almost got me into a beef with a non-resident who wanted the spot. The gentleman proceeded to go ballistic, raving and ranting and using every expletive in the book while also making up some cockamamie story about how I was only holding the spot because you probably “hook me up” during the holidays by making it rain dollars upon dollars for the extra valet service or favor.
(Why does everyone assume that you “hook us up” in exchange for little favors, especially during Christmastime? I wish.)
One, I didn’t know that being a doorman also consists of me parking cars now, and two, I was just trying to be a nice guy, no money involved.
I could have knocked him down. I’m not a hulking juiced-up looking freak but I do have a tall enough frame that commands some respect. When not in uniform, on a hot day for instance, I’ll let the ink on my arms breathe. A resident that sees me either leaving the job or about to come on duty might think, “Yeah! My doorman is some kind of badass. So don’t try and f--- with me!”
Don’t get me wrong, I will spring into action if you are in need of emergency assistance. And I wouldn’t mind getting into "something" if it really pertains to the utmost importance of a situation that called for some kind of flexing of authority. I have a few battle scars to show for it.
But knocking this guy down, getting arrested, sued, and maybe even losing my job for your parking spot? Are you absolutely, completely and utterly serious?
Let me repeat: I'm not about to make a citizen’s arrest (yeah, that’s what you really want me to do) of someone parked in front of my building pumping music too loudly, or to take a bullet from your psycho ex-boyfriend.
If that's what you want, I'm sorry to say you are barking up the wrong kind of uniform. Next time, try 911.