A week ago today— It was freezing cold, late afternoon and I made a pit-stop at the condo. My plan was to shower quickly then shoot down to Macedonia by 7. Surprise! No heat and even worse— no water.
I called my friend Jeff, (the property manager), and…
“Your pipes may be frozen; they could burst.” he offered in his thickest Brooklyn accent. “Did you check the hot water tank?”
“No.”
“Check it, and call me back.”
”Where is it?”
He directed me to a separate storage unit I didn’t know I had, disclosing that it contained both a heater and hot water tank. I found it, immediately and instinctively identifying the water tank as the white cylinder.
“OK, now what?” (after redialing)
“Well, was there water all over the place?”
“No.”
“OK, turn off the water.” he counseled.
There was that pregnant pause.
“Call Chris, have him come out. He’ll do it…Stay away. Call me later.”
”Is it safe to leave?”
“Call Chris.” ————— Click
Returning home that night I found only lukewarm water, minimal heat and Chris’s written promise for a better tomorrow. The weekend passed without incident. Mild weather coupled with minimal home time — Was
the heat on, off, or just weak?
Monday I woke up in a frozen tundra, and vowed to address it by day’s end. And then I got busy.
Mid-morning, moving too fast through the office, I misplaced my keys. (They were to turn up at day’s end on the lobby mailbox).
With places to go and people to see I got lucky. One of the other guys was office-bound all day and offered his vehicle. It was to be my first fling at a Lexus. (Even this was a challenge).
First of all, there is no key. You put your foot on the BRAKE, push a button and go. Who knew? Then, get this—I’m seconds on the freeway and have to change lanes. Driving another’s car, and needing to be cautious, I used the directional. (Or tried to).
I hit the wrong rod. All I knew is that somehow I placed a phone call; I heard it ringing. Frantically, I pushed buttons until the noise stopped.
Using my cell phone I called the condo, as the maintenance guys would meet me at the unit. Couldn’t figure out how to turn off the car, so I left the motor running and entered.
“Your heater’s not kicking on,” said the first one.
“Nothing out of the fan,” came his partner…and with that he turned the thermostat down before cautioning:
“No sense having this up here—nothing coming out. It hasn’t been serviced in a while. Get your guy out here.”
It had been so long since I’d been exposed to a foreign language. There were questions to ask—answers to get.
“Can I use the hot water?” (I had none)….“Could the thermostat being down cause a fire?” (No)….“Does the thermostat effect the water temperature? (No)….”Are you sure?” (Yes). “Should I sleep in a hotel?” (No).
Here were two guys with a combined IQ of 79 and they had me by the you-know-what.
Like the thieves from my old cellphone service. Like the geeks that fix my computer. Like…….the clowns that make televisions these days. I still have separate machines for the TV and the DVD because I can’t figure out how to go from one to the other. (Life was easier when it was just 3, 5 and 8…even livable with UHF).
Perhaps I’m not cut out for this century.
My kid called the other day asking that I pull something off the “desktop.” I needed help. Later Stace asked me to order a drink from the “barrista” at Starbucks. She used five words (none English) which I repeated by rote.
Turns out the barrista was a waitress who handed me no-cal coffee with bubbles. Me? I ordered a plain coffee and they asked me “Room?”
Another pregnant pause.