For quite a spell, I’ve thought about writing down the various times where I’ve had interesting happenings at my apartment complex. One of the most recent is some anonymous neighbour who opts to leave messages in rather fine print, stating “Don’t slam the door, or I’ll report you!” – which is odd for two reasons: I don’t slam the door, and the first thing I did was take the note to the front office in hope to discourage and/or alleviate any tensions with this unknown party.
Shoot to today: My dishwasher is broken, and not in a ‘it goes clunk’, or ‘it shoots foaming deathwater along the floor like it has BSE’. It just seems to be laid back, and now arbitrarily drains the filthy water and dries the dishes. My take is that the timer is probably at fault, and it’s going to go out sooner or later.
I stop by the front office, who is more than happy to send the repairman out. I said, “No worry. I can wash by hand for a few days – I think it’s most likely hardware. Feel free ot hold off until after the holidays.”
“Oh, no, we won’t have that. I’ll see that he’s out today.”, she replies, smiling all matter of factly.
Cut to four hours later, and there’s a workman knocking at my front door. Either he’s the repairman, or some delusional community service worker who has come to use my restroom. It turns out to be the former. “I am here. Fix disposal?”
“Ah, no. The dishwasher.”
“Ah, si. Si. The dishwasher.”, he nods affirmatively.
After poking around at the externals of the dishwasher and taking my list of symptoms. “Doesn’t dry, just stops. Water usually left – drain isn’t clogged.”, he says “Probably the timer.”
I grin and nod, and he writes down the model number, then goes to assess that my ceiling fan is pretty unstable and I should have them fix that. I nod politely, thinking to myself that I might be able to attach dusters to it and use it to buff my plates clean. All on a lark, mind you..
He hands me the worksheet, and says “I’ll order the part.”, then begins to trek out the door. I follow him there and help him with his excess of tools which he’s brought in a converted degertent container. He turns at the door, smiles, then says “It’ll be affer the holiday. Probably second week January.”
I then very cautiously close my door to preclude and further one way correspondence with the crazy ‘note on the door’ leaving person.