August 16, 2007

• Birthday Post, Part 2

  Thursdays I work both jobs. I came home from the 8-5, changed and went to my other job. When I got back, my hot water heater had rusted through on the bottom flooding my studio apartment. (For those of you from California, a studio apartment is an apartment that only has one room.)

  I remember talking about how old hot water heaters get sediments in the bottom. I had told the office a couple of months ago that I was getting rust coloration when I ran the hot water, but all they did was replace the thermostat. For some reason I knew subconsciously that this was coming because I remembered wanting them to replace the whole tank at the time but they wouldn’t do it. Fucking bastards!

  Now, there wasn’t any standing water, but the carpet was fully soaked. My apartment complex doesn’t have an emergency nor after hours number. I tried to turn the water off to the heater but the dial was rusted solid…despite my making an emergency trip across town to Walmart to purchase channel locks for the purpose. I called the utility company to get them to turn the water off to my apartment since the meters weren’t labeled. They tell me that at the discretion of the driver since it’s after hours, I can be charged up to $85. I had no choice so I said come on.

  I slept in the apartment that night and as you can imagine I didn’t get any real rest that night. Next morning I awoke early and went down to take my dirty clothes to the laundry as they were sitting right in front of the hot water heater and had gotten soaked. I took the clothes down to the laundromat where I’ve been getting my clothes done ever since I’ve been here, but wouldn’t you know it, the owners recently decided to retire so they aren’t washing anymore, jus collecting money off the damned machines. The place they referred me to up the road wanted $80 to do the clothes. I was taking it up the ass without the cherry flavored anal eaze, but I didn’t have a choice. I was late for work and the busy season had just kicked off.

  I told the office what had happened. They said they’d get right on top of it and said that they would cover the utility bill, but that they wouldn’t give me one dime on the clothes. Asses. I stopped by at lunch to see what the progress was. The maintenance man was almost finished hooking up the hot water heater and said he’d get a shop vac to get up most of the water and then the carpet cleaners would come if not Friday afternoon Saturday morning. When I got home from work Friday evening, instead of the carpet cleaners having come, all that had happened was the maintenance man had taken the top of the shop vac off, pulled the carpet up in the closet (the location of the hot water heater) and then wrapped it under the carpet. No note, no call to let me know what was going on.

  Thankfully, some friends of mine in Madison put me up for the weekend.

  The carpet didn’t get cleaned until Monday afternoon after I finally got my mom to call down to the office. I was ready to rent a P.O.D.S. unit and find somewhere else to live.

  I didn’t know what to expect with Stardust. All I knew was that the trailer had me asking a whole lot of questions that I had to have answered. The movie was just the right level of fantasy, humor wizardry and romance for me. The price of the ticket was fully justified to see Robert Deniro in his roll. (I won’t spoil it here.) And let me tell you, Claire Danes is hot. I wished my girlfriend would glow like her.

  Of the few souls that did come to the movie, half of them weren’t invited; rather they were friends that Stephen had tag along. I had a rather nice time. Afterwards we went to this Japanese place. I won’t be going back. It was overpriced and the portions weren’t enough. To top it off, Rebecca did come but she only came to the restaurant where there was already a healthy conversation brewing. She brought her parents along. Needless to say, since they were on the other end of the table, I didn’t get a chance to visit with any of the three of them. I’ve tried to rain-check it with her via Noccalula Falls this Sunday. Speaking of which, I’m supposed to have dinner with my aunt and uncle that evening, but I haven’t heard back from them on final plans.

  So while I was shopping for Dad’s birthday present, I noticed that I had significantly more money in the bank than what I should have. Therefore, I purchased the following scores: Bourne Ultimatum, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Mr. Brooks and Brick. Interested parties inquire inside.

  I hope that I didn’t skip a bill or something. Or have to pay a ticket. This week Alabama is putting 200 additional troopers on the road to “Take back Alabama roads”. The claim was that there was to be a zero tolerance policy. One mph over, you get a ticket. No seatbelt, you get a ticket. Since it’s a crackdown, I don’t see any recourse. I expected to get the first ticket. Thus far, I’ve been lucky. Fuckers. They just have to pay for bonuses they want. Too bad this didn’t turn into a class action lawsuit against the State for harassment.

  In other news, my clothes weren’t ready until this (Wednesday) morning despite the fact that they told me and had automatically printed on the receipt that I could pick the clothes up Friday after 1600. On my return to the apartment with the clothes I went through a school zone. Some dude in a beatup purple car wearing a tank top got all pissy and followed me to my apartment and then got out and walked up to my car. I had my windows down. I thought he was going to hit me or kill me or something. He bitched about me flying through the school zone, which was blatantly untrue. He claimed that he was going to call and make sure that I got a ticket, but the way I see it that shouldn’t happened because I do believe that there has to be at least two credible witnesses. Furthermore, if I do get the ticket on his word alone, he’d better be ready to go to court as his non-appearance should get the ticket dropped since I have the right to face my accusers. Maybe I could double that up and have him arrested on contempt of court. Asshole. I hope he burns in hell.

  • 6:18 pm
  • 4 Comments