It's Raining Again!

It was the weekend from hell!!!! I'd go hahaha right now, but I can't say it was all that funny.

I awoke to the sound of rain. We were expecting some nasty stuff - torrential rains it said and high winds... oh, Joy!!! As I laid there before opening my eyes, I tried gauging how my stomach felt. The stress of moving had been taking its toll and I had had horrible belly aches.

In the midst of doing the inventory of my innards that sound caught my ear. Yes, it was raining...INSIDE again! I laid there not quite knowing how to feel. When I opened my eyes and looked up at the gaping hole I call my ceiling, I saw that indeed the water was dripping in all over the place - just one more time.

I just closed my eyes and prayed for God to give me strength to make it through the day or however long this would be happening. Satisfied that I now had the inspiration to move on with the day, I threw the covers back, sat up and slid my feet into my slippers.

The chill in the room was undeniable. I supposed it came with the dampness of all that water coming in. On my way to the bathroom I cranked the heat up a couple of notches. It would be toasty in no time.

I went about the business of waking up and reading the paper trying ever so hard to not notice the water streaming in. It was working rather well until about an hour later I noticed that it wasn't getting any warmer. I have hot water heat. So I went over to the baseboard to feel it. It was as cold as the rest of the room.

"Just wonderful," I thought as I tried to figure out what to do. It was Saturday. Landlords are conveniently absent on the weekend. At least mine is.

I got dressed and decided to go down to the card shop. Maybe he could enlighten me as to what to do. As I walked into his store I felt a chill that rivaled mine. He had just recovered his heat. It needed to be turned off due to repairs he had been doing. It had only been cooking about an hour and a half he said.

I told him I had no heat and I wondered if they had turned mine off too, although for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. There certainly were no repairs being done in my apartment.

I noticed an instant change in his demeanor. He hemmed and he hawed and his eyes avoided mine. I know he doesn't like to get involved in things that don't concern him. The thing is that he has a problem getting involved in those things that DO concern him. He is not a wave maker, that's for sure.

So I'm standing there thinking, "Well, come on. Just spit it out!" But I'm smiling as if I have no clue what is going on. After what seems like an eternity, he finally told me that he overheard the workers say that the landlord had been shutting off the heat of those who didn't pay their rent this month.

No. And I had no intention of paying it until he would come to fix things. (The reality is that I am moving. I don't like the idea of not meeting my obligations. But water seeping in willy-nilly and a shower that leaks like a sieve are things he should have taken care of immediately. And let's not forget that he promised a dumpster too. In the meantime I have to trot my garbage a block away.)

So no, I haven't been a very happy camper to say the least. And now to think that he purposely (and very illegally) put my health at risk was just too much for me to handle. I made a little more small talk and then retreated to my apartment and picked up the phone.

I was very careful to not be accusatory. But I did want results immediately. He said he would be on his way over here. He wasn't happy at all, but that to me was his problem, not mine. I narrowed down the time frame because I had other plans too. I told him someone was coming to pick me up and that I had to know. He said he would come right away. From where he is that would be about a twenty minute drive.

About half an hour later I heard all the commotion out in the hallway. I picked up the phone once again and called the police. I wanted a witness to what I was going to say and it needed to be someone who could be deemed as credible.

Ten minutes later I let them in and told them about my suspicions and we went to confront the landlord. It was obvious that he didn't like the element of surprise. And he certainly didn't like being accused of something he said he had no involvement in.

But his role as the victim didn't play well either. The cops accompanied him to the basement where the boilers are. If the boiler had just ceased operation they told me, then there should be a distinct odor of gas seeing it wasn't turned off. That could create all kinds of problems - dangerous ones too. Oddly enough, there was no odor. But not being certified themselves, the cops could do nothing to remedy the situation..

He followed them back upstairs to my apartment. He began getting pretty belligerent with me. At one point in the discussion I told him to step back, that he was being too aggressive and that he needed to back off. His arms began to flail as he demanded that I be 'put out on the street.'

At one point his arm touched my shoulder, and instinctively I just pushed him. If I thought he was dancing before, it was nothing like he was doing now. And he was at a near screaming point. The cops told him to settle down. He demanded to be let into my apartment. I told him he could leave.

The police wanted me to go to a friend's house or somewhere. But I told them that rumor had it that he did this to people. And when they were out of the building he would then go through their belongings and he'd himself to whatever he wanted, and that I wasn't going anywhere. Although very adamant that I should be where it was warm, they could not force me to go.

The end result was no resolution. I had to have bigger guns than the police. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was at a loss as to what to do and stayed in that 'unknowing' feeling for the rest of the day.

On Sunday I called the gas company. I so very much wanted to tell them there was a gas leak, but issuing a false report could get me into all kinds of trouble, so I fought that impulse. They did, however, give me information that I could use on Monday morning.

And so here we are at Monday. I called them right away at 7 a.m. They put out a work order and would be here in one hour. But that was of no use unless the landlord was here to let them in. I then called the police again, to help track him down, because he wasn't answering my calls.

I called the TV station and the newspaper. They were not interested in any story, but thank you very much for calling.

I called the Board of Health, but it's strange. They don't do anything unless a person's rent is paid in full. I thought they were in the business of public health and building code violations. I guess I was wrong. It seems they are in the business of collections for the slumlords.

I called Social Services because I am low income and qualify for fuel assistance. Maybe an act of Congress could get those people going, but I doubt it.

I was running out of options. But the funny thing about that is when you think you've run out, you're wrong. There's always one more.

I walked to the restaurant across the street and asked if I could use their phone. I told them briefly of the problem. They were very kind. The way I figured it was that he was screening his calls. But a call coming from a restaurant would stump him and he just might answer the call.

BINGO!

I was very calm and I made my statement. "The gas company is on the way here and so are TV crews and reporters. My next call is to the Board of Health and Social Services. The police are here standing by. They want me to ask you how long it will be before you get here."

At that point I was all by myself in a restaurant. I sat there drinking coffee until I saw him arrive. I just waited. I needed another person present and would wait for the gas man. I saw the landlord get out of his car and I called the waitress over to witness where he was going. We saw him go to the end of the building and then he vanished into the alley. I asked her would she be willing to tell the police what she just witnessed and she agreed. You see, in the alley is the doorway to the basement. He was going in to turn the gas back on and claim it was all some horrible mistake.

I saw the gas man coming down the street and called the police from my cell phone. I only needed them for insurance. As they pulled up I thanked the waitress for all her help and told her that they might be coming over to see her. She winked and told me it was no problem at all.

As the gas man got out of his truck I told him we needed to wait for the police before entering the building. He didn't seem all that shocked and got back into his truck. I just stood in the doorway and waited for the police. They got there in about two minutes. Small towns are good like that.

I explained that the landlord was already in the cellar no doubt turning the gas back on so as to not get caught. The gas man was horrified that he would do such a thing. We entered the basement and lo and behold there he was just fidgeting away with MY boiler. (They are all clearly marked.)

And if I thought he danced on Saturday, it was nothing like the jig he was doing when he noticed us. He was shouting obscenities and carrying on so bad that the cop told him if he didn't calm down he was gong to arrest him. The poor gas man and I just stood there as it played out in front of us. The landlord had been caught red-handed.

In the end... (I bet you were thinking... Is she EVER going to end???)... The heat is back on, the landlord is in a mess of trouble and he is the one getting the bill for the gas man's service call. Now that the police witnessed him being who he is and doing what he does, they will file a report with the Board of Health and the building code inspector. Social Services will be notified because he has other low income people renting from him also. And seeing he owns practically the whole street, they will most likely be looking into inspecting his other properties as well.

Mission Accomplished!!!