So install a good lock and plan to hover in the hot seat at interminable board meetings instead of doing something constructive like, say, snoozing in the apartment for which you fork over that hefty monthly maintenance fee. “I get paid in heartbreak and agita,” said Matthew LaPorte, the president of the board at the Doric Apartments in Union City, N.J., “and think of it like this great, or maybe not-so-great, hobby I do several hours a week as opposed to sleeping or working at the job I actually do get paid for.” He was joking, sort of.

His father had been the president of two Manhattan co-ops; when informed that his son was about to replicate his footsteps, “he told me I was stupid.” Mr. LaPorte joined the board at the 435-unit co-op in 2009 and became its president last June.

His tenure has yielded mixed results: heralded for installing a state-of-the-art gym, yet vilified for raising guest parking fees to $15 from $10 a day. “Even though most residents can’t be bothered to attend meetings,” he said, “they always have time to interrupt me when I’m walking the dog. So twice a day I stop and answer questions or complaints. Every once in a blue moon I get a compliment.”

According to Michael Vargas, the chief executive officer of Vanderbilt Appraisal, New York City has 6,800 co-ops, more than half concentrated in Manhattan. Which means that nearly 7,000 city residents, whether motivated by altruism or megalomania, are employing their social skills and fiscal finesse in the woefully — just ask — underappreciated role of co-op board president.

“Of all the fun things I could have done with my time, I wouldn’t say it was fun,” said Terri Feinstein Sasanow, a lawyer for the New York City Law Department who was on her co-op board at 1 Gracie Terrace for a dozen years, the last six as president. “To a certain extent it can be a thankless task.”