I don't mean to complain but, aw what the fuck, yes I do.This all started because I allowed The Ex to speak. And because I didn't instruct my building "super" (a looser term has never been used) to disregard any and all instructions from said room mate, I have endured two days of hell. Shortly after my ex moved back in with me (my idea, don't ask) he lodged a complaint/observation that the bathroom toilet was tilted. At first, I laughed but upon further inspection I'll be damned if the shit hole isn't listing a tad to the left! Apparently, our askew ass deposit taker was interfering with my room mate's ability to properly, well..... crap. I found this impossible to believe. I mean people can go in streams, behind bushes hell just last week I was lucky enough to come up in the dark on some homeless guy on 20th/1st pinchin a loaf right there on the sidewalk. You want fries with that? Speaking for myself I'm like clockwork in that department. Somewhere at the end of my third cup of coffee every morning and hello! Time to make the doughnuts. Too much information? Anyway, I figured he'd adapt. He did, but he never forgot. Now previously I always insisted on speaking to the "super" myself about home repairs. Meaning most things I left until I could fix them myself. It was a system I devolped after five or six experiences of something that was just "fixed" breaking again or breaking worse. Note to "handymen: Duct tape is not a universal repair tool. But I decided at some point to let my room mate appear to have a say in what happens around here. We had sort of evolved into one of those Gay-ex bf-not having sex-(except that once)-going out for drinks-sharing bills-buying furniture-just good friends but more than that kind of relationships. (all the fags nod their heads, they know). I figured since the "super" rarely actually showed up to fix things and I could always speak to him again to explain what I really needed done, I could have my cake and rule it too. So every once in a while my room mate would let the "super" know that a light fixture needed repair and about that toilet...all the while me standing behind him rolling my eyes so the "super" knows just the light fixture today useless and I'll see you in a month when it breaks again.
Flash forward to a couple months ago and I'm having a perfectly innocent conversation with the "super" ( he's Irish and so so cute he usually runs around in sweats doing "repairs" and every once in a while I think "how much trouble would I get in if I yanked down those sweats while he's up on a ladder and jammed my tongue up his butt?") All of a sudden he starts bringing up doing repairs in the bathroom! Apparently one of the many times my room mate brought up the tippy bowl had actually registered and he had a plumber take a look. The fear there was that at some point the 100 yr old building underneath my poo pot could completely rot away and assuming someone was on it the results could be hilarious err....... I mean disastrous. Got any sugar? Now this was doubly distressing because last years fall/winter project was a complete renovation of the bathroom. You see at some point a couple of years ago we got some new neighbors above us. Apparently, these new boys decided to attempt their own bathroom renovation by removing their bathtub intending to replace it with a shower stall. The landlord got wind of it and urged them to wait. 100 year old buildings can't be yanked you need to be gentle. At this point any long time tenant of this building knows the whole thing is held together with spit and tape and an ill concieved repair job can result in a floor or cieling collapse without warning. So it came to pass that one day I either came home from work or woke up from a drunk and lo and behold half the cieling in my bathroom has collapsed into the tub and the toilet and all over the place. Cleaned it all up, it was delightfully wet and moldy. Followed by another mini collapse the next day, cleaned that up as well, and now half my bathroom ceiling is gone. At the time, a repair project I didn't feel comfortable attempting. I'd do it now. so I dutifully call the "super" secure in the knowledge that within six months or so, a half assed repair job will be completed. Here is what it looked like after it had been fixed.
Finally at some point on last year's journey back from the land of Phobic Alcoholia I took a look at that depressing, dirty old bathroom with the crappy little mirror and the inadequate lighting and I thought "dammit, I suck cock I can fix this" So I did. I'm not going to go through the whole repair job except to say it was huge and involed chipping away 100 yrs of plaster and paint and lots and lots of spackle. It took about six months of me working days off and mornings and frequent bouts of me inhaling suspect building material dust but I did it. (I'll post pictures in a couple of days) Trust me when I say it was some of my best work. And now, when it's all done and everything is put back together and I've been able to enjoy my beautiful new bathroom for the first time in years, now you want to rip out the toilet and fix the floor? I wanted to cry. I almost did cry when it turned out they tore out the bath tub as well and tore out (and threw out- I paid for them) the shiny new vinyl tile floor that matched the wall and towels. And now a project I was assured would only take two days has already taken two and it's not over and my house is filthy because whatever plaster and dust I never quite cleaned up the last time has been stirred up again and we've been using a toilet in a vacant aprtment and peeing in the sink (OK maybe just me) and showering at the gym and it's just been hell I tell you, hell on earth. (I'm making a pouty face right now, just so you know). But I have to admit. The new ceramic tile floor makes my naughty parts tingle a bit...
