What a Drip

Soon after getting my iPhone, one of the first apps I downloaded was a white noise program. Among the 30-odd sounds engineered to lull you into a calmer state of being (including, and I'm completely serious, "Cat Purring" and "Hair Dryer Blowing"), my top five are:

1. Running Water
2. Heavy Rain
3. Beach Waves
4. Stream Water Flowing
5. Running Shower

Sense a trend?

So, the other night I was watching television when I heard “…drip…drip…drip,” which I first identified as a leaky faucet. Not an alarming situation. However, that mild drip turned into the sound of someone pouring a glass of water, and then into a quickly-filling bathtub. Ever on alert, I sprung into action.

I ran to check out what was going on and was startled to see my bathroom ceiling had turned into my own private Niagara Falls. Not so soothing. I started to gather my hand towels, robe and bath mat before realizing that they were already drenched and beyond salvation. (This was not the time for a “Leave No Towel Behind” policy.)

I was at the front door, about to run down to my super’s apartment, when I made a quick K-turn and headed back to my bedroom. It was almost 11 p.m. and I was in pajamas, foot loose and brassiere-free. But even in a plumbing emergency, I don’t take the girls out on the town without buckling them in – you know the saying, “Click it or ticket.” Well, let’s just say I’m a safe driver.

After that quick detour I hightailed it to the basement, where I found my super’s family gazing up at their ceiling. My super lives right below me, so the water had begun to make its way down. I quickly explained what was happening, and the super’s brother (who was filling in while the super was on vacation) followed me upstairs, along with his two sons. It didn’t take long for them to grasp the problem. The super’s brother ran to find the source of the water – a burst pipe, he thought – while the kids helped me assemble garbage cans to catch what water we could.

During the next few minutes, kids, teens and adults roamed in and out of my apartment. While the super’s brother was off exploring, his daughter kept me company. (She came up after the newly-installed basement ceiling hit her when it crumbled due to water damage.) We commiserated until her father returned.

Was it a burst pipe?

No, he said, it’s your upstairs neighbors. They wouldn’t let me in until I yelled that they had a burst pipe that I needed to fix. I opened the bathroom door and found five inches of water around the tub. They forgot they were running the bath.

Fantastic!

Well, I was relieved that it wasn’t a burst pipe, but I was still vowing to give my upstairs neighbors the stink eye every time we passed in the hallway. (More difficult than it sounds – I’ve never seen them, and they don’t seem to open their front door.)

Thirty minutes later I was minus most of the water, after the super’s brother vacuumed it up, the paint was buckling on my plaster walls, and an ominous drip continued to torture me. I was also down two ceiling fixtures. They were filled to the rim with lovely brown water and had started slowly detaching due to the added weight. Here's the one in the hallway abutting my bathroom:

Isn’t that beautiful?

That night I eventually fell asleep to the dulcet sounds of “Frogs at Night.”