I suppose I should be more detailed. At about 12:00 am I was sitting on the couch stitching when I heard a noise from the bedroom as if someone had turned on the shower. Disturbing, yes, but a few weeks ago our sink accidentally overflowed and leaked into the first floor apartment and maintenance caught it before we did, so I thought maybe the same thing was going on from the third floor. Never did I expect to see what I did.Water was gushing from the ceiling next to a vent, and the popcorn layer was peeling and bulging away. My bureau was soaked. The clothes in it were soaked. The 20 or so books and magazines I keep on the bureau were soaked. The floor was wet, the hamper was wet, even my bed was wet. I called Nate and he said to call maintenance.
In a panic, I dug out our apartment community reference manual. There is a page about the "24 hour maintenance" staff we have on call, and an explanation of what constitutes an emergency and thus an emergency call. The second item on the list is flooding. Ok, water pouring through the ceiling, check. So I called the number.
I was connected to a woman from the answering service who could not have been less interested in helping me. I don't know if I interrupted her midnight game of Ms. Pacman or what, but she got my apartment number wrong, asked for my phone number repeatedly, and clearly just wasn't paying attention. When I explained the nature of the problem, she asked if it was something I could "stave off until tomorrow." When I replied no, there is water pouring into my bedroom, she said she would have maintenance give me a call.
Now I felt at least somewhat reassured. Maintenance has a little cabin on property and they are usually just a golf cart ride away. Or so I thought. At 12:26 the phone rang. It was maintenance alright. The man on the line greeted me "Hi, this is ---- from --- ----- Maintenance, how are you doing?" When I answered "I've been better..." he sighed and said "Yeah, me too." Now hold on a second. I am usually a very empathetic and appreciative person, especially toward those in service industries. But frankly, when it's after midnight and there's WATER POURING FROM MY BEDROOM CEILING, I don't really give a crap how the other guy is doing! Don't complain to me!!
Next, I was instructed to "poke a hole in it [the ceiling] with a pen and put a trash barrel under it." I was silent. I thought I was misunderstanding something. Was he coming over to poke a hole in the ceiling and put a trash barrel under the leak? Was he joking? He goes, "Hello, are you there?" Finally I said yes. He told me "That's all we can do for now." Confused, I asked "So you're not coming over?" "No." "Is someone coming over tomorrow?" "We'll probably be able to send someone over on Monday to assess the situation." I was flabbergasted. Probably? Monday?! His parting words of comfort were to tell me "there's a lot of this going on." Oh great, so you're not just blowing me off, you're ignoring my neighbors as well! I got off the phone and started to get really angry. I had already been able to figure out to put a basin under the leak and had put towels down in the affected area, but that only does so much, and now there was a leak in the second bedroom where I keep my valuable book collection. I called Nate back to update him. He called the answering service repeatedly and was unable to get any further information. Maintenance refused to call him back.
So we slept uneasily all night next to a rapid leak in the bedroom ceiling. The bulging was getting worse, and I fully expected to wake up to another waterfall when the ceiling let go again. This morning the damage is worse, as shown in the photo above. Still no help from maintenance. The books and electronics from the bureau are destroyed. I have no idea what will happen next, but I am extremely unhappy. With what we pay for rent, I fully expected maintenance to respond to an emergency. But apparently it's too much trouble for them. Let's wait til Monday and see if the ceiling, walls, and carpet all end up destroyed. Maybe then they'll decide to send someone over.
Maybe.
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