For something to entertain everyone, I am providing the whole story of the state of my apartment, and the weekend.
I am sitting on my sofa Saturday morning. Six days to go in my apartment. I’m drinking coffee, watching CSI, thinking about what remains to be packed, getting ready for the day. I think to myself, “Is that water I hear?” I get up, and discover that my bathroom wall has sprung several leaks between the top of the tile and the ceiling. Water is flowing around the recessed light box into the sink. Water is slowly dripping into the hall closet (which, luckily, was already mostly empty.) Oh no! I decide to call maintenance. I call, and call, and call.
While I wait for someone to answer, my upstairs neighbor knocks on the door. “I just wanted to let you know that one of my pipes is leaking, just in case you see any water,” he says. “Thanks,” I reply, “My bathroom is leaking a LOT, and I’m calling maintenance too. By the way, aren’t you moving soon too?” Wait for it….wait for it………”Today’s my last day,” he says, and heads back upstairs to wait for the plumber. Poor guy. Twenty minutes later, someone finally picks up the phone at the office. I explain my problem, she says, “hold on……..no one is answering at the maintenance desk, can you just call back?” “NO!” I shout. “I have been calling for twenty minutes, you need to get a plumber up here NOW.” “Ok,” she says and takes my address and phone number.
About an hour later, I hear the maintenance man’s radio in the hallway and he goes upstairs to my neighbor. A few minutes later he comes down to my place. He says, “‘Boy’, I said to your neighbor, ‘it’s a good thing there’s no one below you any more!’ But he said, ‘No, she’s still there and has major leaking!’ So I came to inspect your ceiling.” He explains that the problem is in my neighbor’s bathroom, his supply line has burst and the poor man was upstairs trying to suppress the leak with his thumb. There is evidently water covering his entire apartment floor. Cheerfully he goes into my bathroom and says, “Wow! That’s pretty bad.” Then he puts his hand to the ceiling over my tub and it bounces in and out. “Hmmm. I don’t know about that. Looks like there’s an old patch job there that’s coming apart,” he explains. He excuses himself and comes back with a big, lovely box for me to pack up my bathroom items in (they all fit perfectly, too) and a pile of rags to soak up the water on the floor. I explain that I am leaving in 6 days, and only want to be able to take a few more showers, there’s no need to really get serious about fixing my ceiling. I simply want them to patch the pipe and reassure me that the ceiling will last the week. He explains that he’ll be back to patch the pipe after they are drained. I am philosophical — after all, I’ve only got a few days left and it’s not as if they’re going to try to re-rent the apartment.
I call a friend with whom I have made plans to see a movie and have lunch. “We are having at LEAST one margarita with lunch,” I explain. I pack a bag and grab my travel toiletry kit, and head to the office to shower. The movie is at the E Street Theatre right next door to the office anyway. As I gather these items, I hear the wet-vac upstairs. Just before I leave, my kind-hearted neighbor, who’s been in the building longer than I have, comes down to apologize for the leaks, as if they are his fault. When I get home, the leaking has stopped. My neighbor is gone, he’s turned in his keys.
Sunday, I work on the apartment (doing many things I had planned to do Saturday but obviously didn’t get to) and take my donations to Goodwill. This takes six trips to the car, which gets completely filled with donations; even the front seat and floor are full. Then, I return and take my trash to the Dumpsters, in five trips. Now I get to emptying the pantry, which fills up a few more trash bags. I take most of them to the trash this morning. Tonight I’ll still have a few more trips to go. I must still finish packing up the many things which did not get packed this weekend, since Saturday was a complete write-off. Oh well, at least the movie and the margarita were good.
As of this morning, the shower is working and it seems that it will hold together for a few more days. Due to the bitterly cold weather, I left my kitchen and bathroom sinks dripping slowly…just to be on the safe side. It’s as though the building has had its feelings hurt because all of its people are leaving, and it’s getting revenge. I cannot get to the Calvert fast enough.
