(Disclaimer: the below story contains some bad words. Trust me, they are warranted.)
It started out innocently enough...I got blue-tagged again last week. This time it was because we hadn't plowed the way to the water and poop tanks. No biggie, right? We'd had a week of snow (those of you whining about Nemo can suck it), there was a lot there, it was reasonable!
We rationed water for a week. I took shorter showers and did no laundry. The dishes stacked up in the sink. Monday morning I took a shower, and everything seemed normal.
Monday night I came home from a trying ER shift to my neighbor standing outside my door. He told me I had a problem. Thinking he was being facetious, I started shouting about people at work. He cut me off and said, "No, you have a problem. Go into your house."
There was a lovely puddle of water extending from my water heater and pressure tank that apparently went through the wall into my neighbors' apartment and had flooded a closet. Also, my water pump was making a continuous grinding sound. It was not a happy sound.
No sweat. I called my property manager, who we'll call Charlie. Charlie's number was disconnected. Awesome.
My neighbors gave me a beer, and we began the process of tracking down our landlords, who are currently touring the Lower 48 in an RV. Eventually Charlie appeared, gave us his new number, surveyed the situation, shut off the breaker to my pump, and told me it was all my fault because I'd run out of water. I enquired a few times why, if I had run out of water, the main symptom was water flooding two apartments. He didn't have an explanation for this. I'd run out of water, and as Wednesday is Water Day, everything would be fixed on Wednesday.
Class, raise your hands if you believed this!
Yes, I didn't think so.
Fast-forward to Wednesday. Fortunately, I had the day off, my first day off in awhile. I eagerly awaited the arrival of the Poop Truck and the water truck. Around 2 pm, I finally heard the grinding of the truck idling. I looked out the window and saw the Poop Truck Man struggling with my Poop Tank Heater. He couldn't get it out.
CRAP.
(literally)
I pulled on my Carharrts and ran outside in time to see his back - he'd just blue-tagged me again: frozen septic. I'm starting a blue tag collection.
After much investigation, it seems that the outlet to my Poop Tank Heater went bad. I stole some electricity from my neighbors, thawed the poo, enjoyed how shitty my apartment smelled (literally), got Charlie on the phone, and got the Poop Truck back. As I was coming back from all this, my neighbor shouted at me, "You're so full of shit it took two trucks to haul it all away!!"
Sad, but true.
They filled my water tank, and I called Charlie back to prime the pump and get things running again. Charlie came over, banged on things for awhile, and then made his patented "AHA!!" sound that I've come to dread. I've gotten to know Charlie's AHA's. I heard them a lot during the saga of my broken heater that began with my carbon monoxide poisoning. Charlie's AHA means he thinks he's figured out the problem, and it's so small, so minuscule, so simple that he'll have it fixed in 5 minutes flat and life will be happy again.
Class, raise your hands if you trust this!
Didn't think so!
We spent the next hour pouring water into the pump, turning the faucets on and off, playing with the pressure gauge, flipping the breaker on and off, and watching the water leak out of the pipes. He finally concluded the pump was bad and that it was actually quite fortunate that I'd "run out of water" (please note: I did not run out of water) as otherwise, the entire house would have been flooded to no return.
Charlie told me to do my dishes, flush the toilet, take a shower, and then shut off the pump for the night; he'd replace it tomorrow. He left, and I pulled out some nice fresh pajamas! (Living large!) I got all ready to shower. I was so excited! I turned on the water...and it fizzled down to a drizzle, and then stopped. No more water. No shower! No clean dishes. No flushing! Nothing.
I shook my tiny fist for a few minutes, and then broke into my neighbors' apartment to steal some water.
Apparently the shit smell in my apartment is turning me into a thief.
BLAME THE POO!!
