01 November 2006

Wet and Wild

As some jerk once said, when it rains – it pours. This should be the motto of our current apartment that we will soon be moving out of. Thank goodness for that, since our apartment has been equivalent to a house made out of cards. Piece by piece, it is truly falling apart.

It never fails. Something retarded must happen when my partner is on the road. It seems to be some sort of unwritten law. If it isn't a mouse seeking shelter in our stove top (which was the source of Friday night's emotional meltdown), it's something else. And that something was presented to me on Sunday afternoon.

In anticipation of my partner arriving, I took the time to dress up for him. I wasn't feeling that great about myself earlier in the weekend so I figured I would doll myself up for his arrival. I put on this tight and low cut shirt, a black skirt, and knee high argyle socks – saucy, mais oui!? I was doing the dishes in this outfit because I hate doing housework. The way I see it, if I'm going to do some redundant chores I might as well sauce it up a bit. You all should try it sometime. Nothing beats making a bed while wearing a very short skirt or vigorously scrubbing a bathtub in a boobtastically low cut shirt. Anyway, that's beside the point. So here I was, vigorously scrubbing dirty dishes in the sink. I have some good music blasting in the background. I feel good. I feel sexy. Soon, my man will be home and I'll be all over him like white on rice.

I hear a noise.

It's a kind of snapping noise. I turn off the water and stop cleaning the dishes. My first thought was fire. I'm morbid like that. I peek my head around the corner. There's fucking water pouring from the light fixture in the hallway. Fuck me. I'm pretty indecisive when it comes to first reactions but I kicked into gear, while profusely swearing. I'm grabbing buckets. I'm putting on my shoes because I don't want to get electrocuted. I'm running upstairs to pound on our stupid neighbor's door. There's no answer. I call all the numbers in our phone book – the landlord ("mailbox is full, goodbye"), a caretaker (who says he has nothing to do with this building), and the so-called handyman (number is disconnected). I call my in-laws and they tell me to call for emergency, which I did. By now, it is a waterfall pouring from my ceiling. Great.

I ran around the place, moving guitars and trying to remove all the vinyl we have in that area. There is a lot of vinyl and water is streaming on top of me. Within minutes, the firemen came to my rescue. Thank God. I have to admit, they did look very amused. Of course, they were concerned at the fire hazard this posed and at the stuff that was quickly being damaged. But here I was, all dressed up and nowhere to go but tend to a big messy disaster happening in my apartment as water dripped all over my cleavage. Hey, at least they got a smile out of it.

In a few more minutes, my father-in-law showed up to keep me calm and assess the damage. I was glad for the company, that's for sure. We were both glad that my partner wasn't home just yet because he would have seriously strangled the upstairs neighbor. Let's just say, they are not the sharpest tools in the shed. If they are not leaving the doors open for cracked out bums to squat in our building, they are playing their loud art-rock crap to keep us up at night. An unnoticed water tank leak doesn't surprise me in the least. About ten or fifteen minutes into the domestic waterfall, one neighbor came home to see her door busted down and probably a lake in her apartment. Her first reaction – a hearty laugh. A hearty laugh? Jesus Christ! Who finds this funny? When our water heater busted earlier this year, I didn't bust a gut. I think it took her a good hour and change before she realized her vinyl was ruined to which she bellowed a hearty "like, oh my god?"

And then my partner came home, earlier than we expected. I wanted him to come home to de-stress from being on the road. I wanted to make him some tea, have a nice dinner, and have a long hot shower. Nope, he came home to this – firemen walking through our house, the electricity shut off, a lake in our hallway, and the dumb laughter of our idiotic neighbors. He was obviously instantly irritated, to say the least.

Eventually, the landlord and his minion, the "handyman", arrived at the scene. I wanted to punch the landlord in the neck because he walked up the stairs with this shit eating grin on his smug little face. Hell, what does he care? They have never cared about the concerns of their tenants in the first place, whether it is a shit load of water pouring from our ceiling or waist deep rotting garbage filling up our fire escape. They simply do not give a shit. There was a slightly heated argument between the boys. I avoided that scene; I was already stressed out as it was. The handyman looked at our apartment because he was apparently there to fix something – which he didn't. He was trying to turn on the breaker in our apartment but we barked at him to stop. The firemen told me specifically to not turn on the electricity for a good day so that the ceiling and what have you can dry out. But no, the half-wit handyman is pawing at our breakers and saying it should be no problem. There was so much dumbassery from our landlord, the "handyman", and neighbors – it wasn't even funny. And then they were asking me, why didn't I call them? Why didn't I let them know before the firemen came to knock down their door? Fuck you! I have water pouring from MY ceiling and out of a light fixture, no less. And you want me to sit there and wait for them to pick up their phone? Yeah, like that's going to happen. These are the same people that told us that there were no hot water tank repairmen to fix our water tank when it sprung a leak. In the entire city, no one was available. You know, except for the one we called ourselves. Lazy bastards.

Needless to say, we are living in chaos at the moment. I'm glad that we didn't have too many of our precious possessions ruined. And I am truly glad that we have finally have the keys to our new place and we can get out of this shit hole at last.


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