I am very disappointed in you. As you know, this apartment complex, of which you are an employee, is not some hoe dunk, low-rent motel. No, this apartment complex is pristine. Less like a complex, and more like a resort community, this place has immaculate landscaping, Spanish tiling, and a pretentious clubhouse. Correspondingly, the amount of rent that is paid by myself to your employer each month is more expensive than I could be leasing for, but is reflective of the higher echelon of apartment living.
Why then, if we are putting on the facade of being grandiose, can we not fix my plumbing, which is fast going to shit? (Pardon the pun). Isn’t it strange that an apartment that is only three years old has had, in the past two weeks:
1. An f’d up washer that has stopped rinsing – yes, fishing sopping briefs out of the appliance formerly known as the washing machine makes doing laundry that much more enjoyable.
2. A bathroom sink stopper that has become permanently lodged in the drain, making removal of water from said sink impossible – I just love the random dust balls and scummies that are congregating in the stagnant pool that is the sink basin. Bella likes it too, because she can hunt for bugs from the comfort of her own bathroom.
3. A toilet that does not flush – I haven’t had a manicure in forever, and it’s been really nice plunging my hands into the pristine water of the toilet tank to extract the little broken lever that controls the swirl of my toilet, each time I need to relieve myself.
4. A bathtub that does not drain – Maybe it’s because I have hairy hobbit toes that shed when I’m showering, but my god, is it too much to ask that you come pour some drain-o into my bathtub? A selling point to this place was the “garden-style bathtub”. While I think your employer meant for “garden-style” to refer to the shape and size of said tub, I understand it to mean, that because of all the dirt and muck left behind from a sloooow drain, I will now abe able to plant potatoes atop the porcelain.
And I realize, dear maintenance man, it may not be entirely your fault. While you are seemingly lazy and incompetent, I do realize that the middle man between us may be a weak link. I think it was a bad sign when I called Donna at the clubhouse with my requests, and instead of being sympathetic or professional by telling me she’d get it handled right away, her sole, glorious and dim witted response was “Oh.”
In any event dear maintenance man, Angelface and I are begging and pleading, please fix our plumbing! I understand if you don’t feel like working. I don’t feel like working most days either, but I do work, because that’s my job gosh darnit! And besides, I couldn’t hardly afford Bright Eyes CDs, nutrition books and Digourno pizzas without a paycheck.
Cheers jackass!
- H
