Our office is located in a building that was built way back in like the early 1940's, our olive green tiled bathroom even has ashtrays above the urinals (a sign of days long past). It's a lovely place, where the sewage backs up into the water fountains at least 3 times a year, spilling black stinky water all over the place. Fortunately the super has a handyman to take care of this. He's a nice man, although he is as old as the building itself. He's colored (as in black) which who cares, but he doesn't seem to speak English. Well he does but its pretty much gibberish and I can't understand a word he says, and I speak gypsy.
He's very nice though, but he looks homeless. In a way he reminds me of my dad. Well not really but like my dad he thinks everything can be fixed with gasoline or turpentine. Needless to say you can smell when he's coming or where he's been. I worry about him cause he smokes too, and when I see him I can just see him exploding into a ball of fire. It takes him nearlly a week to change one florescent bulb. The last time he did in our office I thought he was going to fall off his old wooden ladder which might be as old as him. I was stading near by ready to catch him at any moment. Recently he's gotten a helper who isn't quiet as old as him, but he's just as crusty, he looks and dresses homeless too. Remember the black guy in the first Pirate's movie? The one with dreads? Yeah that's what he looks like, only a bit older. Fortunately he smells like dirt and not turpentine, which come to think of it isn't any better. But at least their both nice.
Recently the men's restroom had a plugged loo again. This happens every other month. Albeit from no problem of the building (miraculously) but some nut insists on wipping his buttocks with the brown sandpaper like paper towels you use to dry your hands with. And this bum doesn't flush he leaves you a nice present when you open the stall, a loo full of poo and filled to the brim with the paper towels. Needless to say if you try to flush it's just backs up. I've yet to discover who the hell is doing this, but when I do vengance will be swift. I've narrowed it down to a couple of people. Although I must say the person who does this must have a pain fetish or something as I can't imagine why anyone would want to use sandpaper quality hand towels to clean themselves with. Oh and did I mention that they line the entire seat of the loo with these things too, about an inch high.
Anyways Carl as his name shall be known, was fixing the loo when I walked in. There was a mess everywhere. (I won't even go there) He asked me in his undistiguishable gibberish. "You having trouble with the nats too." I look puzzled just trying to figure out what on earth he said. Then I realized and said yes, but knew the consequences of what was to occur. (For whatever reason our buidling were we lease is a fly magnet. We've nats coming out of every crevace you can name. It's a constant annoyance.) Clarks dealt with this before, his solution is to sprinkle borac acid powder all over the building, which I hate simply because he does this inside and out, leaving a white mess everywhere. Not to mention how sick some of the ferral cats that might get into it would get.
Back to Carl. He was finished with the loo for now, but he started disrobbing. I'm thinking "What the?" I hear water splashing in the loo next to me that he's in. While I'm washing my hands he steps out of the loo, very wet with a bottle of blue looking soap. I try not to stare. He then proceeds to go to one of the sinks, sticks his head under the faucet to get his hair wet, and proceeds to take the blue soap and shampoo his hair. The guy was taking a sponge back in the restroom. I think he is homeless. He says something to me that I don't even understand, not even with my superb gyspy incite. I just nod and reply "Yes it is." even though not knowing wht he said, and take my leave.
Going back to my office I'm entirely freaked out. Ick!! I hope he wasn't using the toilet water to take a bath with. I turn a little green at the thought. I can't imagine why on earth he'd do that. As I think about this another nat flies past my face. Since it's been raining so much down here we are having an invasion of insects. Every morning when I open up the downstairs hallway is packed with crickets and roaches climbing up the walls. This past Monday it was so bad I thought I was in the Indiana Jones movie, the second one I think where they're in that tunnel and its crawling with bugs. Oh well, I laugh cause I remember the kid saying, "I think I step on fortune cookie.", while a rather large roach crunched under my shoe. I suppose they'll be white powder all over the place when I leave today.
Oh and another odd thing. On my way home last night I went to fill up with petrol. Nothing spectacular I know. I pull up to the petrol station and park at the pump. One other cars pulls away and I'm literally the only one at one of the 12 pumps filling up. Again I stress, NO ONE ELSE IS THERE. Before I can even step out of my car, this elderly woman in a mini-van pulls up behind me, parks and waits for me to finish pumping my gas. Now I could understand if all the pumps were taken and she was just waiting her turn, but again THERE WAS NO ONE THERE. She just sat there like nothing along with her (I suppose) granddaughter who was too busy texting on her cell phone to care. So there they sat, I couldn't help but glance and wonder "WTF?". I finally finished and left and she pulled into the pump and filled up. What can I say it was a weird day yesterday.
Oh on the plus side, MTG left me a new mix CD. I'm ashamed to say that I haven't as of lunch time today listened to it yet. I will though. I found it neatly hidden away in my work bag. I'm bursting with excitement to have a listen. I shall post the track listing once I find out what on it, as its not marked with one and only came with a note and a smiley face.
2 comments:
Poor Carl.
What is the gypsy language like — a mixture of different languages, or something all its own?
Let us know what's on MTG's CD.
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