Rantopolis

It’s a hole in the wall.

Last Tuesday, my building engineer knocks on my door and tells me there is a little problem brewing behind one of the walls in my master bedroom.  He thinks there is a problem with one of the water pipes and unless it’s dealt with it might burst.

Fabulous!

The thought of having hundreds of gallons of water pouring out of a high pressure, high-rise water system and into my bedroom is not particularly appealing.

Even less appealing is the thought of tens of thousands of dollars in damage.

So, I immediately consent to the inevitable.  Breaking through the wall to get to the pipe. Sledgehammer away, people.

After about an hour of pounding, I walk into the bedroom to find the following.

Apparently my building engineer is a frustrated cartographer.

A rough representation of South America with Australia apparently having been relocated to the south Atlantic.

Oh, yeah and the rest of the bedroom covered in fine plaster dust.

Long about now, I’m thinking that a flood would have been more desirable.

So, out comes the dust rag and the vacuum.  (Handling these things normally cause an involuntary face tick.  Which is how I justify a biweekly visit from my housekeeper.)

The next day the crew returns to switch out the pipes.  The water is shut off in that portion of the building for five hours.  That means 35 pissed-off residents.

I finish and retreat back into my office.  About an hour later, I hear more banging.  I walk back into the bedroom a hour later to find this.

Oh, man. Australia is still fine, but what the hell happened to South America?!

And once again, the entire bedroom is covered in white plaster dust.

I briefly consider calling Ripley’s Believe It or Not as I reach for the vacuum cleaner a second time.

Then on Thursday, a different crew arrives to plaster and paint the former South America and Australia.  Then a third crew needs to come back upstairs to move my furniture back in place.

In doing so, my white bedroom carpet is stained, which results in a call to the carpet cleaner.  Appointment set for Wednesday.

I wish they had just taken that sledgehammer to my head.

Categories: Chicago style , The high rise files