Dear Plumber,
When you come to fix a stopped up toilet, which is full to the brim with unspeakable unpleasantness, please don’t casually flush again to see what happens and flood the bathroom and make the whole toilet itself unspeakably unsanitary, inside and out (and for me to clean). Also, before you leave, please give the unspeakably unpleasant floor a bit more attention than just a quick once over with a soaking wet, unsoapy mop. It doesn’t help. Also, please don’t take our plunger when you go. We need it. Really. See Note to Repairman for further details as to why you shouldn’t steal our fucking plunger.
Dear Repairman,
When you come to re-bolt the shower stall back onto the wall, don’t drop all your bits of plaster, bolts, screws, etc down the shower drain. It is now clogged. We have no plunger. Also, please try to tidy up just a tiny bit before you leave so I don’t have to spend an hour trying to clean up the remnants of the clogged toilet mixed with plaster and mud and dirt and odd bits and pieces both in the shower stall and around the bathroom. I resent having to stick my hand down the shower drain to extract your odds and ends. When I went to rinse out the incredibly grimy stall, it wouldn’t drain. We have no plunger. See Note to Plumber.
Dear Landlady,
Although I appreciate you taking time out of your day to supervise the repair of the shower stall, I would be a bit more grateful if, as you left, you didn’t turn to me and advise me sweetly to just be more careful next time.
Careful? The fucking screws came out of the wall, cracked, when D. slid the door open. It has been sticking for months. It’s rusting and cracking. Now, after the morning’s repairs, the left sliding door doesn’t even move or align properly so one must slide in to the shower sideways and hope the water doesn’t spray through the one-inch gap.
Sigh.
