Apartment Hate: Redux

Did I mention how much I hate apartment life?

Tonight, I cleaned the kitchen, loaded the dishwasher, was all proud of my accomplishment, then settled on the couch to watch a movie. Maybe about 30 minutes into it, I paused for a run to refresh my icy cold Dr. Pepper. Lo and behold, both my kitchen sinks were filled with nasty looking gray water.

I turned on the garbage disposal, the water drains from sink A, and back flows into sink B. I turn off the disposal, and water returns to sink A. I grab the plunger and have a go with it. It only succeeds in churning up disgusting bits of unidentifiable junk. I stop and study the situation, mind brainstorming possible solutions.

I heard the hum of my next door neighbor's garbage disposal being switched on and watched in horror as the water in my sinks increased to the point it was ready to crest and flood the kitchen floor. I panicked and paged the after-hours maintenance man. Fifteen minutes go by before he calls back. Good thing it wasn't an emergency or anything.

After a brief rundown of my problem, Happy Helperton comes over with a plunger in hand, and a white bottle. He pours contents of said white bottle down sink B. It stinks something awful. I peer at the bottle: pure sulfuric acid. Soon, the entire apartment smells like Hell. Literal Hell. I spray some air freshener, which only succeeds on making my apartment smell like Satan's Grandma's house.

The sulfuric acid followed by vigorous plunging is no success. Happy decides he is in way over his head and calls someone else, who comes over to inspect the sink, and then he calls someone else. Among the three of them, none of them sound like an actual plumber.

At least I am not alone in my misery. The neighbor's sink is doing exactly the same thing.

So now it is almost 11:00pm, and I have a parade of smelly guys darting between my apartment, the neighbor's apartment, and the basement to try to figure out what's going on because no one can seem to figure it out. With all these strange people roaming about, Sam is going apeshit. However, he is wearing the bark collar (so we don't disrupt the baby), so all he can do is pantomime. He forgot about the collar, barked a couple times, got zapped, and went and hid under the bed for 15 minutes.

I hadn't really planned on cleaning my carpets this evening, but with all the activity that is going on, no one in this building is going to get any sleep tonight. So, I may as well brandish the Hoover and start some microwave popcorn.

It's going to be a long, long night.