On Monday I received a last minute text message from Kevin asking if I'd be willing to house sit while the family went to the beach for the better part of the week. Of course I said yes and have spent the last three nights in the Greenehouse.
This morning, on the way to work, I decided to stop by my apartment to grab something for lunch. To my great surprise, there was water all over my kitchen floor. I had no idea why this would have happened, especially since I hadn't been in my apartment for the last two and a half days.
Then I stopped and listened. There were several steady drips falling from the ceiling high above the kitchen. Now, I was in a hurry, so I didn't take the time to seek out the source of the leak. So I headed back down to the car in order to drive to the bank.
On the way to work, I pulled out the cell phone and dialed the property manager's office. The posted hours for the property manager are Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. With today being a Thursday, I knew I should expect no answer. And that's exactly what I got. Unless you want to count the answering machine.
The outgoing message provided me with an after-hours emergency pager number. So instead of leaving a message that I knew wouldn't be heard until tomorrow, I hung up and called the pager. I typed in my phone number and hit the pound key, then hung up again. It's been awhile since I've actually called a pager, but I'm pretty sure I did it correctly. The fact that an automated voice said "thank you" when I was finished seemed to be a good sign.
But I never got a return call.
After awhile, I called the office yet again. This time I left a message letting them know what was going on. I wanted something to be there, just in case someone checked messages, even in the off days.
I never got a return call.
Even after paging the emergency number a total of nine times throughout the day. I never got a return call.
After work I quickly took care of the dogs at the Greenehouse, then headed to the apartment to make sure the leak was contained in the kitchen. There's nothing valuable on the floor in there. However, if the small pool had spread to the living room, heads would have to roll.
Luckily, the puddle remained in the kitchen. Without a mop handy, I decided to grab some towels and throw them down, just to catch the rest of the drops and hopefully prevent any more of a spread.
I also grabbed a flashlight in order to check out the high, dark ceiling, hoping to find the source of the several leaks. One seemed to be coming from a pipe of unknown origin. Another was dropping from a beam, telling me that at least part of it is definitely coming from upstairs.
Again, I called the office to leave another message. This time I was a little nastier than this morning. It's not that I was expecting a lot on an off day. I just think it's ridiculous for them to leave the residents with an emergency number for which there would be no answer.
So I'm once again at the Greenes, even though they're returning home tonight. As far as I know, the dripping continues, and will continue into tomorrow. What do you think? Did I have a right to be a little peeved about the lack of response to my pages? I don't pay much in rent, so I don't expect a lot of return on that investment. But it would be nice to hear someone say they won't be able to get to the problem today, can it wait 'til tomorrow? Just let me know what you're doing or not doing to earn my rent check each month.
Oh, and I'm a little afraid that what's leaking may be poo water. Not sure, but there's definitely a brown stain on my counter top where it was leaking this morning.