We all like to belong — and when we are told we are no longer part of the core, there is concern that something grander has been lost in the translation between being being and living.
Our building Super recently told me that he’s surprised we’ve lived here so long — rented so long — because we “don’t fit” in the building or in our neighborhood.
I told him I found that an odd statement to make because we have never been late on the rent, we have lived here for over 12 years, and we have never made a single complaint about anyone or requested any sort of maintenance from the landlord.
“Exactly,” the Super said, “You don’t fit.”
When I looked at him, still confused and puzzled, he continued.
“You don’t fit. You don’t complain. You don’t have lots of visitors. You keep to yourself. You don’t make noise. You’re a quiet couple. You don’t have loud music. You pay on time. You don’t cook smelly food. YOU DON’T FIT! Get it?”
I suppose I was starting to get it. I guess he was telling me that, because of our background and behavior and upbringing, we didn’t really belong in our current neighborhood because we’re not slovenly and obnoxious?
I’m not sure if he was making a veiled Racist threat or just a Bigoted generality about the other tenants in the building, or if he was indirectly insulting me — I don’t take hints well, and he usually find a way to insult me in every conversation — but I wasn’t really certain, but I had no particular gumption, or interest, to ask for clarification and continue the conversation.
I found “not fitting” an odd thing to suggest since we’ve been “fitting in” just fine for over 144 months, but I wonder if his greater point was that all good things must come to an end, and that, perhaps, the building might be changing in a bad way with new tenants that might fit the new whole better than we do right now.
Our building complex has always had split personalities. Our building has been quiet and clean and filled with professional workers. The second building next door — both buildings are owned by the same landlord — has been the louder of the two, the messier of the two, and the building with lots of children running all around every day.
It has been a delight and a pleasure living in the quiet building, but if we’re now being told we “don’t fit” — perhaps we should take the warning in his word, and start to find other pathways outward, and away, from the home in which we have always felt was a perfect fit.