You’re traveling and pull out your cell phone and tether at the rest stop to check your email.
So, as many of you who have talked to me in the last oh… 3 and a half weeks know, the refrigerator in my apartment died. Luckily, one of my housemate’s boyfriend had a mini-fridge he loaned us. It wasn’t big enough to fit all our stuff in, and it was a pain in the butt, but hey, at least we could keep a few things cold. My landlord was in Florida when I called and told him it was broken and he said he’d get a new one for us when he returned in 10 days. Well, we’re still living out of a mini-fridge. His advice? “Knock on the door to apartment 3 and see if they’ll let you keep things in their refrigerator.”
Sorry buddy, but that doesn’t fly with me.
Yesterday afternoon, I turned on the hot water to find nothing but a trickle emerging. Luckily I’d already showered, and because I was busy with a fashion show I was engaged to photograph, I didn’t get a chance to call him. After I finished shooting the MTU’s ROTC commissioning and then the commencement ceremony today, I called him about the hot water (hot is an overstatement, it doesn’t even break 100F). Apparently he found a leak in a pipe yesterday and turned off that water heater. He couldn’t get a plumber here Friday, but has one coming on Monday. You know the funny thing though? I was listening to the radio the other day and heard an ad for a company that does plumbing/electrical and is available on the weekends. Not to mention that a bit of tape or sealer should provide a temporary fix. Instead, I guess I get another day of not showering and shaving out of a bowl with water I heated on the stove.
It’s enough to get me wondering whether I should sue him. At the moment, he’s in breach of the Houghton Rental Code, sections 14-176 and 14-238.
I really just can’t wait to move out of the Blanche Apartments.