Harrumph. That's all I got to say. Now, if you are long time readers, you will remember the bathroom wall from hell and the condo manager from hell? They have teamed up once again to make my life miserable. Luckily, my dear Hunnibunni said just yesterday, don't you want to try this pinot grigio from Italy? SURE, I do. Good thing I had a nice new bottle awaiting the end of my travails.
It all started with getting out of bed yesterday. Now, you all know Ipo aka SOS (spawn of satan). For those of you who might NOT know, Ipo is our problem child. We have two kitties. Ipo and Allie. Allie is the sweetest little girl in the world. Ipo is Spawn of Satan. However, Ipo is the cutest kitty in the universe which is the only reason she isn't currently kitty stew. But, I digress.
At 5:30 AM SOS is pawing at me to get up. She's awake, ergo, *I* am awake. Ok, I get up and toddle off to morning ablutions. In the midst of my toddling I find that my feet are wet. WHAT!? I immediately think SOS has a bladder infection and has peed on the master bathroom floor. I contemplate killing myself. Ipo with a bladder infection is not to be believed. Been there. Done that. Not fun. Ok, I flip on lights and sure enough, there is a large puddle on the floor. But... it is right at the base of the Wall From Hell. Crap. My new Pinot grigio is rattling. I can hear it calling.
I get the paper towels. Nope, not cat pee. Uber crap. The wall from hell is leaking water. Again. Now, as some of you might remember, we have had nothing but trouble with leaking a/c pipes, the Insane Upstairs Koreans (henceforth refereed to as UK), insane nazi managers (henceforth referred to as MFH, manager from hell) and dry wallers.
So, I lay my shell-like ear against the WFH and sure enough...dripping water is the mellifluous sound I hear. It is 6AM Sunday morning. WHY does this shit always happen on Sunday? Last water disaster was at 6Am on Sunday, too. Our bathrooms are possessed.
So, I mop up the water and feel the WFH. It is soaking wet. Wet dry wall. I have a George Carlin moment. Like Jumbo Shrimp. Yanno? Sigh.... I wander off to ponder this recurring problem while I observe my blissfully unaware Hunnibunni snoozing peacefully. I think about waking him up so he, too, can suffer. But, I remember that I love him to shreds and let him sleep. I mean, really. This is the guy who reminds me I am out of wine. What's not to love? ;D
After many various thoughts I decide to go see if I can find the guard. I do. He's this darling Micronesian guy names Paulus. Pronounced POW Loose. Ok, I tell Paulus the problem. He knows there is another leak in the building but doesn't know what is to be done. Ok, that's fair. This isn't his problem. But he assures me he will tell the MFH.
So I go back to our place thinking about how a glass of wine will do at 6:30AM and write a note to the MFH then slide it under his door. He hates me so, even though he gets my note, he doesn't give a rip. He has pink water issues. He has lots of other issues, too. :(
Really. I have discovered that a/c people put this crap into their chill water piper which turns the water pink. So, when I finally track him down hours later, the first thing he asks me is... is the water pink? No, Toad, it's clear, like cat pee. Ok, now we have TWO leak problems. Again. He is obsessed with pink water. No matter how many times I tell him that the water is clear, he insists it HAS to be pink. Ok, I tell him I am calling my plumber. The not pink water drips into our bathroom all day and all night. I restrain myself from opening the wine. Idiot that I am.
Monday arrives on little Ipo feet and, after SOS wakes me up at 5:35AM, I wait until a civilized time and call the plumber. What does he ask me? Is the water pink? QUIT with the pink water, already!! I tell him everything he needs to know. Now, Marc has been to our unit many times and knows it inside out. He knows all our plumbing is possessed, too. Marc is also skinny. I tell Marc I need him because the panel into the WFH is skinny. Marc sends me a tubby little guy. Marc is indispensable to someone who was in line before me. :( Why I don't have first dibs on Marc escapes me. I am pretty sure that we must own the plumbing firm by now.
Anyway, the plumber checks everything. Looking for pink water, yanno? Really. I hear more than I ever wanted to know about pink water. Feels slimy like olive oil and makes your fingers tingle and burn if you touch it. Swell. I'm ever so happy to have this pink water education but my dripping water is clear. Hmmmm, what to do, what to do?? Sure enough, the leak is from the UK. Stop it! Not England. Remember? I told you...the Upstairs Koreans. :D Pinot Grigio...loud and clear!
Now, the plumber says there is obviously a leak in a pipe in the UK unit and there isn't anything he can do. He goes to his truck. Now, in the meantime, I decide I need to call Mike, the wet dry wall guy. Mike and his kid Nick will have to tear out...for the 4th time, the dry wall and install new. So, for some reason I find myself out in our parking lot and whose car do I spot? Mike's! I hear voices so I toddle over thinking it's Mike on his cell phone. Nope. It's my plumber and BOTH UKs!
Crap. Over the years I have had nothing but problems with the male UK. I never even SAW the female one. Yet, lo and behold, there they are, chatting like real humans to my plumber. You are thinking bad things. Don't. The male UK has sputtered repeatedly about how he has, "No engrish, no engrish" yet here he is talking to the plumber. I gird my loins. And march on over. I plaster a smile on my face so I don't scare anyone. I am ready to kill. However, sanity overcomes me and I decide to be civilized. I KNOW I am opening the pinot soon!
I introduce myself to the female UK who is about 4' 8 and has on this mid 12th century kabuki dead white pancake make up. She's dressed to the nines but has this make up that is something out of Little Shop of Horrors. It looks like an 8 part video I once watched of The Reign Of Elizabeth 1. She got small pox, recovered and wore this lead based white crud on her face to cover up the scars. They are pretty sure that's what killed her. Death by kabuki make up. :(
Other than the dead white fish belly face make up, the female UK is quite pretty. I tell her so. She beams through her lead based muck and both UKs decide to show me photos of the leak. Shell be insane and/or dead by morning from wearing that crap on her face.
After much chatting in the male UK's non existent engrish, we all agree that: the leak is awful, the building must pay, and that we aren't happy. I am DYING to ask...but Mr, UK! HOW many times have you told me you don't speak engrish? I restrain myself and keep my mouth shut. Those of you who know me will understand how painful this was.
Ok, The end result? The UKs leave, the plumber leaves, the MGR is nowhere to be found and I am left with the leaking Wall From Hell.
Hours go by. My friend is here showing me the havoc she wreaked on a necklace she bought. She destroyed the thing by trying to wrap it around her neck when it was too short. I adore her so I will fix it. While she is here, the MFH shows up with a plumber/a/c person. I let them in and they stand before the WFH debating WHY the water isn't...yep...pink. The plumber guy even looks in my pail to make sure I am not lying to him. Isn't it time for wine yet?
They decide several things: I am not lying, the water is really not pink, yes, there is more than one leak and they don't know what to do. They leave. I say ENOUGH! I drag out the new bottle of pinot grigio. Oh boy. :D
I am ever so happy. I get to try my new wine. I love white Italian table wine. I just know it's going to be dandy. I whip out my 37 year old wine opener and...wait...this appears to be a ...screw top. Oiks. Ok, I know that corks are an endangered/dying thing. You laugh. Is true. So, I think, ok...I'll just take off the foil and unscrew the top. HAH!
The foil is made from the same shit as the female UK's make up. It is solid lead and stronger than I am. I toddle into my craft room while I find the proper pliers. Are you kidding me? I'm an old bartender! I KNOW how to open wine. Nope, there is no opening this bottle. I'm an old massage therapist! I am strong. Nope, this kabuki lead stuff is stronger than I am. I get my pliers and manhandle the stuff off the bottle. I think, they aren't going to be selling much wine if you need The Hulk to open the bottle.
But, undaunted, I get it open, get my glass, pour some wine and I'm a happy girl.
Then I toddle into the bathroom to deposit some of my own not-pink water when I realize...there is no water dripping into the bucket! Can it be that I will get a good night's sleep tonight? No water all over our floors? You'll just have to wait to find out. :D