My sister and her husband have this bad ass place in a bad ass part of town and it’s all decorated bad ass and just plain bad ass.
They’re in Boston, so I’m housesitting.
As soon as I get there, the neighbors are running in circles talking about water. “No water” — they cry! “No water!!” “Did you pay your bill?” “I paid my bill” “No water!!!” — it was very amusing. Then the neighbor next door says to me “Check Your WATER!” — as if mine was going to magically work when the rest of the building was missing theirs. I walk in the apartment and neighbor guy has followed me in and is holding open the door.
Who is this guy?
Sure enough, my water is out, too and neighbor guy says “You must be Rachel’s sister, I’m Andy” Nice to meet you Andy, now get the fuck out.
Next morning, the doorknob is all jiggly and hard to turn, B leaves and I’m getting ready to enjoy the fabulous neighborhood, walk to the coffee shop across the street, take a leisurely “It’s my day off” walk down town when…
I’m locked IN.
Who the hell gets LOCKED IN?!? The doorknob is spinning in circles and it won’t unlatch. I call maintenance, who calls the peace officer, who tells me he can’t help me and then in a painstakingly slow manner proceeds to tell me that he can’t help me because I’m locked in as opposed to out and if I was out then he could help me. I already know this. I explained this to maintenance when I called in the first place now could he PLEASE CALL SOMEONE TO GET ME OUT NOW.
Half an hour later, maintenance calls. They’re coming, but it won’t be for another half hour (the guy just woke up) and don’t be alarmed because they have to come in through the balcony.
So I wait, and when they knock at the back door, neighbor Andy is waving saying “Hello — you can leave through here if you want!” Neighbor Andy reminds me of a character in an Adam Sandler movie.
They replace the door knob in less than 2 minutes. Just in time for me to shower and await the 4th of July party goers.
So much for the day off wandering.