Remember when I posted about the history and uniqueness of our neighborhood? Well today Lauren and were victimized by the antiquity of our apartment. The day was going great and we had finally gotten everything out of my apartment and into the new one. Sidenote – no one is allowed to buy me a book ever again. Anyway, despite being sweaty and exhausted, we were proud of how well things were coming together and pleased that we were finding room for everything. This should have been an ominous sign.
Suddenly it sounded as though it were raining outside. Lauren, in fact, asked me, “Is it raining?” I walked toward the bedroom to look out the window and noticed that the sound of falling water grew louder as I approached the bathroom. I peaked in and got a bit of a surprise as water was
dripping running pouring down from the ceiling above our bathtub. I quickly evaluated the situation. “Um, Lauren we have a…leak.”
By the time Lauren made it to the bathroom Tropical Storm “Ceiling” had advanced from downpour to deluge. My immediate thought was to grab a bucket or something to catch the water. Finding a bucket at this point would have been akin to trying to put out a forest fire by blowing on it. As we watched the scene unfold, Lauren noticed the wet ceiling tiles buckling and said they looked as though they could fall. Nary a second later, her words proved prophetic.
Lauren screamed and we both jumped as the first tile crashed to the ground. With fewer tiles to slow it, the water gained force. Soon more tiles fell into the tub followed by dirt, muck, and whatever else lives between the floors of a 90-year old house. Our bathroom had not fared well in this battle and Lauren was visibly shaken by the whole experience. My reaction was one of bewilderment. For the first time in my life I felt just like Tom Hanks in
The Money Pit.
From the start it was evident that the water was coming from our upstairs neighbor and Lauren and eventually went up to see what was going on. I couldn’t imagine how this conversation would go. “Hi, we live downstairs. Could you please stop playing with your rain-making machine? Thanks. Oh, and we can borrow some towels?” It turns out that our neighbor wasn’t feeling well and had decided to take a bath. She usually takes showers, so how could she possibly know that trying to fill her tub would also simultaneously fill ours? She finally gave up on her bath and turned off the water. This slowed the stream into our apartment to a slow trickle.
We called our landlords in Texarkana and explained the situation. As luck would have it, the landlords’ daughter was in Houston and stopped by to survey the damage in person. Her husband eventually checked it out and made some type of repair to the ancient pipes. Lauren and I cleaned up the bathroom and life has returned to normal…well, other than that
giant hole in our ceiling.