By Robert Kroll

There are around a quarter million co-op living units in “The Naked City.” There are around 80,000 supers running them. Every one of those supes has a fantastic story to tell. I will be telling at least some of these.

I plan to tell the stories of my Brooklyn Heights brownstone. Nine apartments. Fourteen occupants. Two dogs. Two babies. Three goldfish. I am the super. At the risk of sounding boastful, a note I wrote to my residents, posted on the front door and signed “The Super,” was vandalized, and the word “Hero” was added after my ID. The city may arrange a party in my honor at the local Gray’s Papaya.

I’m new to this supering business. I moved from Berkeley to Brooklyn 15 months ago. Already I’ve had adventures you only read about in trade journals like “Pest Control Fancier” and “Locksmith Quarterly.” Or the “Vindow Viper’s Views.” Man’s Adventure.

There will be regular articles that you can sink your teeth into and come away with chipped teeth and an understanding of how to be a “super hero,” how to be a super tenant, and how get the most from your super. 

How do you feel about your super? What do they do well? Poorly? What is the most valiant thing the super did for you when in need? The shittiest? Is your super a hero or a villain? How so? We will be imparting some of what we consider best practices for supers but we will not engage in super shaming. Ultimately the super gains “hero” status when they solve problems, make life better for residents, and recede into their den. We will not be identifying any supers, but will tell their stories, their adventures, their lives. You know who they are.

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