Crazy Neighbor

So, Will gutted our guest bathroom and was completely renovating it; new tub, new toilet, new floor, new sink, the works. Well, after he ripped the old tub out, and most of the wall that was behind it, we realized that the drainage pipe from the washer of the peeps upstairs was leaking and had been for some time.

We thought that we’d better let our homeowner’s association know about it, so that they could arrange and pay to have it fixed. It was a couple of days before they managed to find a plumber to come out to our place. But he did, he arrived early in the morning, around 7:30 and began to get to work. He disassembled the drainage pipes and was getting ready to put the new pipes and fixtures into place and said how easy this job was going to be.

I, on the other hand, was sitting on the bed, strapped and tied into my aquamarine ball gown that I love so much, sipping my morning martini, smoking my 5th joint of the day, holding on tight to the dogs so that they didn’t dismember the plumber. Everything seemed fine, an excellent day so far. Until a few minutes into it I heard a lot of water, and the plumber proclaimed, “Shit!”. I then heard more water. The dogs and I all looked at each other wondering what was happening. I then heard him say, “Damn it.” I thought that I maybe should go check to see if he needed help.

As I came around the corner in the hallway, there he was holding a couple of pipes precariously together; looking desperate as he looked up at me and another load of water came bursting through the open seams. He looked so cute and innocent and pathetic – I wanted to rip his pants off, but I digress. The maid was doing laundry upstairs. And all the water was coming downstairs into our torn up bathroom. I quickly handed him some towels and a bucket. And then I ran outside to ring upstairs to tell her to turn off the washer. I nearly spilled the martini as I ran. I rang the doorbell and waited. I knocked on the door and waited. I heard her come to the window and look out and then not answer the door. I began talking up to the window trying to tell her what was going on. She still didn’t come to the door. I should’ve known she was useless. We found out from our upstairs neighbors that once after the maid had been there and they came home to their newly cleaned condo, that there was a big log waiting for them in the toilet. As if to say, “Oh yeah, I’ll clean your place and I’ll even do a great job! But…you’re gonna have to see my poo.”

I went ahead and ran back inside to check on our plumber. The poor devil was standing there half-soaked, with water still gushing out. I thought about tearing off his pants again, but instead, I ran back outside and rang the doorbell again and waited. I rang it again, then knocked on the door and waited. I don’t know if the ball gown was intimidating or what, but nothing. Okay, so I wasn’t in a ball gown, but maybe rather a lavender Afro and a tight little canary yellow number. I then began to scream at the top of my lungs up to the window, “I KNOW THAT YOU’RE UP THERE!!!! I CAN HEAR YOU!!! I KNOW THAT YOU’RE THERE!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE NOT ANSWERING THE DOOR! YOU’RE FLOODING OUR ENTIRE APARTMENT YOU FUCKER!!” Okay, I didn’t say the “fucker” part, BUT I WANTED TO!

If I ever thought that she would answer the door, she definitely wasn’t going to now. If anything, she was probably dialing 911, or laying a big log in their toilet. And I also knew, that in her stories forever after, I would be known as the Crazy Neighbor. I would be known as the jackass who screamed his ass off outside in front of everyone. It really didn’t matter that she accidentally flooded our place, what mattered is that I was outside screaming, that’s what they would remember. But I’m going to tell everyone that I can about her laying that big log, the trouble is that unfortunately, the neighbors have since moved and I don’t even know what the maid looks like ‘CAUSE SHE NEVER CAME TO THE DAMN DOOR!