The Leaky Ceiling
Around 2:30 this morning, my husband went to the bathroom. On his way back to bed, he noticed an odd sound. It was, as you may have guessed from the title, a leak in the kitchen ceiling. My husband, quite reasonably, called the emergency maintenance number for the apartment complex in which we live. He got an answering service. They said they'd have a technician come by shortly. Over an hour later, the tech arrives. He comes in, shines a flashlight up at the ceiling (we're not quite sure why) and says that the leak is coming from upstairs and that he'll have to take care of it in the morning.
Morning comes and goes and no word. We called up to the front office at noon, and got no response from the call. Around 1pm, the office calls my husband (I was out). Husband was in the bathroom, and so he missed the phone call. He called right back as soon as he got out of the biffy, and they didn't answer the phone. He called again, around 2pm. No answer. This is the 12-hour mark for dripping water. I got back home around 3pm, and called. No answer. I called at 4:30. Again, no answer.
SO, I grabbed my little camera phone, and took a couple pictures of the hole in my ceiling. I walked down to the front office, which is supposed to close at 5:00. It was 4:45 and Bill (not his real name) was shutting down. He had already closed and locked the front door. He had all the lights off. The only reason I knew he was in there was that as I was walking up, I saw his face in the window as he was closing the blinds. He knew he couldn't hide. And he was scared, like a little rabbit. I do scare that poor man.
I stormed in and said "we still have water dripping, Bill."
He looked surprised, and then he said "well, I tried to call you guys and you didn't answer."
"Well, Bill, we called you back. Paul was in the bathroom and I wasn't at home. But he called you back. And I've been calling the office all day."
"Well, I've just been super busy."
"I can see that, but this is the 14-hour mark, Bill. We still have water dripping."
"Yeah, but I called you when the maintenance guys were in the area and your husband didn't answer."
"Well, you never called me, Bill!" I hold up my phone.
"I don't have that number. You're husband wouldn't give it to me."
"My cell number has been the same for nearly ten years! It's the number I gave you when I moved in here three years ago! Why isn't it on file?"
"Well..." he seems a little lost and confused. "Well, that was before I got here. I don't know anything about it."
"Ok, here, put my number in the computer. And call me if you need something." So I give him my number and he puts it in. Then he says he'll have the techs out immediately.
About 30 minutes later, my husband gets a phone call from one of the techs. "What's wrong now?" he asks, snottily. Husband explains that there is still water dripping. Then he has to explain it to the guy a couple more times, and then asks me if I know how to say "Lots of water dripping continuously" in Spanish. I ask him if I can have the phone. I try to explain, using really bad Spanglish, about the water. The tech says "be there 2 minute!" and then hangs up. Grrrr...
About an hour later, two techs come into the house and say "where the drip now?" Husband looks like he's about to LOSE his MIND. He points to the kitchen. They go in, look at it. "Oh, this from up. We go look." And they're gone. They come back and explain that the guy upstairs had a leak he was unaware of. Well, no shit. But it's fixed. No more water. Yay!
Then husband says "When are you going to fix our ceiling?"
"Oh, no. Is fixed!"
"But there's a hole in our ceiling. Are you going to fix that today?"
"No, not fix that."
"Well, then are you going to come back tomorrow and fix it?"
"No. We can't fix that."
"Why not?"
"Leak's fixed!" and then they turn and walk off.
And there is still a hole in my ceiling.
Morning comes and goes and no word. We called up to the front office at noon, and got no response from the call. Around 1pm, the office calls my husband (I was out). Husband was in the bathroom, and so he missed the phone call. He called right back as soon as he got out of the biffy, and they didn't answer the phone. He called again, around 2pm. No answer. This is the 12-hour mark for dripping water. I got back home around 3pm, and called. No answer. I called at 4:30. Again, no answer.
SO, I grabbed my little camera phone, and took a couple pictures of the hole in my ceiling. I walked down to the front office, which is supposed to close at 5:00. It was 4:45 and Bill (not his real name) was shutting down. He had already closed and locked the front door. He had all the lights off. The only reason I knew he was in there was that as I was walking up, I saw his face in the window as he was closing the blinds. He knew he couldn't hide. And he was scared, like a little rabbit. I do scare that poor man.
I stormed in and said "we still have water dripping, Bill."
He looked surprised, and then he said "well, I tried to call you guys and you didn't answer."
"Well, Bill, we called you back. Paul was in the bathroom and I wasn't at home. But he called you back. And I've been calling the office all day."
"Well, I've just been super busy."
"I can see that, but this is the 14-hour mark, Bill. We still have water dripping."
"Yeah, but I called you when the maintenance guys were in the area and your husband didn't answer."
"Well, you never called me, Bill!" I hold up my phone.
"I don't have that number. You're husband wouldn't give it to me."
"My cell number has been the same for nearly ten years! It's the number I gave you when I moved in here three years ago! Why isn't it on file?"
"Well..." he seems a little lost and confused. "Well, that was before I got here. I don't know anything about it."
"Ok, here, put my number in the computer. And call me if you need something." So I give him my number and he puts it in. Then he says he'll have the techs out immediately.
About 30 minutes later, my husband gets a phone call from one of the techs. "What's wrong now?" he asks, snottily. Husband explains that there is still water dripping. Then he has to explain it to the guy a couple more times, and then asks me if I know how to say "Lots of water dripping continuously" in Spanish. I ask him if I can have the phone. I try to explain, using really bad Spanglish, about the water. The tech says "be there 2 minute!" and then hangs up. Grrrr...
About an hour later, two techs come into the house and say "where the drip now?" Husband looks like he's about to LOSE his MIND. He points to the kitchen. They go in, look at it. "Oh, this from up. We go look." And they're gone. They come back and explain that the guy upstairs had a leak he was unaware of. Well, no shit. But it's fixed. No more water. Yay!
Then husband says "When are you going to fix our ceiling?"
"Oh, no. Is fixed!"
"But there's a hole in our ceiling. Are you going to fix that today?"
"No, not fix that."
"Well, then are you going to come back tomorrow and fix it?"
"No. We can't fix that."
"Why not?"
"Leak's fixed!" and then they turn and walk off.
And there is still a hole in my ceiling.