Yesterday the maintenance guy came by the apartment because a leak in our bathroom was flooding the basement again. He suspected the sink and told us to stop using it for a few days. I expected some half-assed fix from him but after leaving our sink running for 10 minutes it was soon realized that the problem was something else. Our landlord joined the maintenance guy in tearing apart the bathroom to try and find the leak. Turns out it was the toilet, and the next time I walked into the bathroom the toilet was gone. All that remained was a hole in the floor where the toilet once stood and our 70+ year old landlord peering down into it and shouting. Eventually the leak was fixed and our toilet replaced, but the whole situation reminded me of a similar incident back in November. I wrote about it in an email to Kevin and in his reply he demanded that I start a blog to "amuse the masses." So, masses, here is the story that started it all.
Our building, like most in this part of Boston is pretty old. The landlord is a 70-something year old man named Mr. Pizzi who is very hard of hearing but generally really nice. He always says hi to us when we see him and was good about getting things fixed when we first moved in. The shower in our apartment has a window with frosted glass in the wall. When we moved in there were two shower curtains: the normal one preventing water from splashing out into the bathroom and one against the window/wall. I assumed the one against the wall was there so that we could open the window for ventilation and not have the city of Boston watch us shower. How wrong I was.
The shower rod holding the curtain against the wall fell down right before we left for Christmas break. The tension rod broke so we couldn't put it back up. No big deal, it wasn't a huge concern for us. Yesterday morning I took a shower and then went to my room to get dressed. Shortly after closing the door to my room I heard loud knocking on the apartment door. I ignored it because it was 10AM and I couldn't care less who was there. The door opened though and I heard Mr. Pizzi shout, "hello?! Is anyone here?!" I quickly threw on my robe and went out to see what was going on. "Jason! Did you just shower?!" I was standing there in my robe with my hair sopping wet. I think it was pretty clear that I had just showered. Also, I don't know if you know this, but my name isn't Jason. Nobody in my apartment is named Jason. Of the four of us, two are named Daniel. If you say "Dan" or "Daniel" you have a 50% chance of getting the person's name right. He usually just calls all of us Dan which works well enough. "Hi Mr. Pizzi. Yes, I just showered.." I replied. "The damn basement is filled with water! The water just goes straight down there!" he said. We had problems with our shower not draining before thanksgiving so I figured it was a pipe problem or something. I told him that it had drained fine so I didn't know what was going on. "I'll tell you what it is, it's these damn tiles! All the tiles in here are loose and the water gets into the walls and goes straight down there! This is the second time today I've mopped it up. I'll put up a shower curtain tomorrow for ya but stop showering! I'm sick of mopping down there." Obviously the solution here is to put up a shower curtain against the wall rather than retile the bathroom. If I had known that a shower curtain was necessary for the structural integrity of the building then I wouldn't have showered. Ok, that might be a lie. I'm not skipping out on my morning showers. I actually just took one, albeit a very quick one so that I wouldn't flood the damn basement and bring on the wrath of Mr. Pizzi. Shhhh.