The sky is falling!
Or rather, the ceiling.
My friend Liz is dealing with an unfortunate situation — water damage and a collapsed ceiling in her bedroom. I hope her situation is rectified soon.
I truly understand what she’s going through.
I’ve been through it.
My story goes back to 1990. We had a one bedroom apartment on the 5th floor, our building was part of a three-building complex. Great apartment, sunny, clean, rent stabilized. I loved that place.
We moved out of that apartment in 1991, we needed a second bedroom for our baby Jennifer. Otherwise I would have stayed in that apartment forever.
But in 1990, we had a water damage situation ...
Ours was in the bathroom. I went into the bathroom one Sunday night and noticed a bit of water on the ceiling. The water clearly came from outside of our apartment.
At the time, I was handling a lot of insurance claims where water had damaged an apartment or a business, so when I loked at the ceiling and saw water, I was very much aware of what kind of damage could happen. And I was not pleased.
Even under the best of circumstances, serious water damage to my bathroom would be awful. Add in the fact that I was 5 months pregnant, with all those raging hormones...You do not lightly tell a pregnant woman her bathroom will be inaccessible. Not if you want to remain in one piece.
Our superintendant Joe had an assistant superintendant and at least two porters working for him. The phone number tenants were expected to call rang in Joe's office and in his apartment, so you'd think it would be easy to locate Joe or one of his subordinates.
You'd be wrong.
We called Sunday night and got the answering machine. Not unexpected.
Drew called Monday afternoon when he got home from work (he was teaching in a NYC high school at the time, and got home fairly early in the day). He spoke to Joe's wife, who said "Joe isn't here right now and I'm busy with the baby." He called a while later and got the machine again. Joe never came upstairs.
When I got home I was livid, because the ceiling was worse. The water was now gushing out of the ceiling.
Drew came home Tuesday afternoon, and made the same phone calls, with the same result.
By Wednesday I felt like I needed an umbrella just to use my own bathroom. More phone calls Wednesday, but still no Joe.
And then it was Thursday, and I was totally fed up. Neither Joe nor any of the men working for him had come by our apartment.
It was time to get the managing agent involved.
I called the managing agent Thursday morning. Told them that my ceiling was about to collapse (no exaggeration) and that I expected immediate repairs.
Joe showed up Thursday afternoon.
It seems the problem originated in the apartment above ours. The elbow joint in the bathtub had cracked, so anytime their shower was turned on, my bathroom flooded. And they gave Joe a hard time, they didn't want to miss work to let him into their apartment to make repairs.
But as soon as he had access to everyting, Joe made the repairs to their tub and to our ceiling. It was a much more extensive, and expensive, proposition than it would have been if he'd come the first time we called.
About a week later, I was out walking my dog, when I ran into a couple of my neighbors walking their dogs. And one of them said to me: "Did you hear that Joe the super got fired?"
"No, I didn't hear that. What happened?"
"Some lady called the managing agent and told them her ceiling was about to collapse."
Oh my ....
Then she told me that this was the second time Joe had been fired. The first time was just before I moved into the building, and his union had been able to get him reinstated, but he was still on probation and ...
I'm sorry the guy lost his job, but really...was I supposed to wait until the ceiling collapsed? what if it had collapsed on me?
My friend Liz is dealing with an unfortunate situation — water damage and a collapsed ceiling in her bedroom. I hope her situation is rectified soon.
I truly understand what she’s going through.
I’ve been through it.
My story goes back to 1990. We had a one bedroom apartment on the 5th floor, our building was part of a three-building complex. Great apartment, sunny, clean, rent stabilized. I loved that place.
We moved out of that apartment in 1991, we needed a second bedroom for our baby Jennifer. Otherwise I would have stayed in that apartment forever.
But in 1990, we had a water damage situation ...
Ours was in the bathroom. I went into the bathroom one Sunday night and noticed a bit of water on the ceiling. The water clearly came from outside of our apartment.
At the time, I was handling a lot of insurance claims where water had damaged an apartment or a business, so when I loked at the ceiling and saw water, I was very much aware of what kind of damage could happen. And I was not pleased.
Even under the best of circumstances, serious water damage to my bathroom would be awful. Add in the fact that I was 5 months pregnant, with all those raging hormones...You do not lightly tell a pregnant woman her bathroom will be inaccessible. Not if you want to remain in one piece.
Our superintendant Joe had an assistant superintendant and at least two porters working for him. The phone number tenants were expected to call rang in Joe's office and in his apartment, so you'd think it would be easy to locate Joe or one of his subordinates.
You'd be wrong.
We called Sunday night and got the answering machine. Not unexpected.
Drew called Monday afternoon when he got home from work (he was teaching in a NYC high school at the time, and got home fairly early in the day). He spoke to Joe's wife, who said "Joe isn't here right now and I'm busy with the baby." He called a while later and got the machine again. Joe never came upstairs.
When I got home I was livid, because the ceiling was worse. The water was now gushing out of the ceiling.
Drew came home Tuesday afternoon, and made the same phone calls, with the same result.
By Wednesday I felt like I needed an umbrella just to use my own bathroom. More phone calls Wednesday, but still no Joe.
And then it was Thursday, and I was totally fed up. Neither Joe nor any of the men working for him had come by our apartment.
It was time to get the managing agent involved.
I called the managing agent Thursday morning. Told them that my ceiling was about to collapse (no exaggeration) and that I expected immediate repairs.
Joe showed up Thursday afternoon.
It seems the problem originated in the apartment above ours. The elbow joint in the bathtub had cracked, so anytime their shower was turned on, my bathroom flooded. And they gave Joe a hard time, they didn't want to miss work to let him into their apartment to make repairs.
But as soon as he had access to everyting, Joe made the repairs to their tub and to our ceiling. It was a much more extensive, and expensive, proposition than it would have been if he'd come the first time we called.
About a week later, I was out walking my dog, when I ran into a couple of my neighbors walking their dogs. And one of them said to me: "Did you hear that Joe the super got fired?"
"No, I didn't hear that. What happened?"
"Some lady called the managing agent and told them her ceiling was about to collapse."
Oh my ....
Then she told me that this was the second time Joe had been fired. The first time was just before I moved into the building, and his union had been able to get him reinstated, but he was still on probation and ...
I'm sorry the guy lost his job, but really...was I supposed to wait until the ceiling collapsed? what if it had collapsed on me?
I would have been livid if it had taken a week to get someone in. You shouldn't feel too bad for Joe. You tried to get him to take care of the problem before it became that huge.
ReplyDeleteMy problem wasn't nearly that bad. Of course, my landlady has been on the phone for days, insistent that people show up when they say they will. And browbeating them when they say it'll take them days to get in.
I'm actually in my room right now. The ceiling is open, but it's safe to sleep in. Hooray!
I’m glad your landlady is on top of this.
ReplyDeleteOur managing gent was a large corporation that handles hundred of properties. Once they knew what was happening, everything got fixed. But until then ...
Which is why, almost 30 years later, I’m still aggravated.