As some of you know, the elevator in my apartment building has been on the fritz and I live on the third floor. Well, two days ago, after 4-1/2 to 5 months of being shut down for repair and 2 years of only intermittent service prior to that, the elevator was finally put back into operation with all new working innards. I just discovered it worked yesterday, quite by accident, as no notice was given to the tenants.
Last night after work, while sprucing up to go out with my guy pal, I discovered there was no hot water … in the entire building. Again, no notice was given to any of the tenants of this even though the manager was fully aware of it. He only disclosed it when my new neighbor across the hall went down and banged on the manager’s door at 11pm looking for answers. This same new neighbor (the very cute Aaron and Jennifer) was also told a month ago when they rented the third floor apartment that the elevator had only been on the fritz a few weeks and would be fixed within days. It didn’t take long for several of us on the 3rd floor to give them the lowdown.
Meanwhile, I think I have this cold shower thing down. After turning the shower on low and pointing the nozzle downward, I stand at the far end of the tub and quickly soap up. Then I do a demented and speedy tribal dance under the frigid spray. The operative word here is speedy. Also, the hair will have to wait in hope that tomorrow the water in the building is warmer than 40 degrees. I keep telling myself that the early settlers in California managed to bathe in icy streams, so one cold shower won’t kill me. Then I remembered that the early Californians only bathed intermittently … like our elevator used to work.
I think I’m shivering too much to write that rent check.
The image to the right is called Ducha Fria (Cold Shower) by the very talented Maria Helena Spector.