Remember When We Had a Doorman
"The doorman is gone. The superintendant seldom answers. The elevator is slow to respond. And the attendant who runs it wears a sport shirt these days instead of a respectable uniform. Worse, he has an untidy habit of snacking between meals. On chicken pies and sodas.
"Things in the old luxury highrise in Greenwich Village aren't what they used to be. But, happily, the occupants remain perenially
engaging. Not because they're heroic or unusual in any way, but because they're the recognizable sort of folks you, or I, or practically anyone might know. The kind who have
a habit of cropping up in Josephine Lawrence's novels...."
"Life Among the Cliff Dwellers," Jane C. Schoener, ca Mar 28 1971
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