I never thought I’d go this way, but they’d always really hoped
Last week, Y Chrome came tearing up the stairs of my apartment building, threw my door open, and looked at me in a panic.
“There was someone. On the steps. He looked like a young guy; I think he works for your new rental company. And he was playing with a caulking gun.”
And then I ran outside and threw myself in front of the trolley. Ding! Ding!
It may sound like I’m overreacting, but I assure you I’m not.
My apartment complex has changed rental companies three times in the past four years. In that period of time my ceiling collapsed and it took 3 weeks for them to get around to fixing it. My toilet was taken from my apartment for two days while they put in a new floor, which, coincidentally, was a simple sheet of linoleum. And there was the time they nailed all of the windows in the hallway shut, which is totally not a fire hazard. And so on.
The maintenance guys for my last rental company loved caulk the way most men I know love duct tape, Windex, and porn. Except it’s even more thrilling than porn because you can use it everywhere—even in front of strangers—and no one calls the police. My apartment is held together exclusively by caulk, asbestos, and the tears of orphaned babies.
A couple of months ago, my shower was leaking and leaving water stains on the apartment below mine. Maintenance came and rather than checking my shower for any problems, they just gooped on about an inch of caulk around the edges, smeared it over the tiles, and didn’t bother to clean up the excess.
A couple of days later, I hear a knock at my door. It’s maintenance again. “The apartment downstairs is getting leaks again,” the guy says.
“Yes, I was about to call you. I took a shower a little while ago, and the shower itself is backing up–I’m standing in water while I’m showering. I think there might be a clog. I used Drano on it yesterday, but it’s still not draining well.”
“Let me look at the caulking.”
“Okay, but there’s a good couple of inches backed up when I—”
“We caulked earlier this week. Did you give it 24 hours to dry?”
“Well, probably about 20. No one left instructions that said not to use the shower, but the water’s backing up. There’s standing water—”
“Ok, I’ll get my caulk.”
“Right, so I’m going to go throw myself out the window. I’m letting you know now, to make sure in three weeks when you finally fill the work order, you have enough caulk to cover over my body in the driveway.”