Ok. So I come home from a stupid Monday at work. And the subway is all dicked up; something about a broken rail at 57th and 7th ave, which is in the opposite direction from the way I'm going but somehow fucks up my commute anyway so it takes an extra long time to get home. And I finally make it to my stop, and in the walk between the train and my apartment I'm thinking about my evening. I think, I'll do some dishes, make some dinner, do some baking, do some writing and some blogging, take a shower. Right? Right. So I get to my apartment building, and what do I see on the door? A pitifully crude handwritten sign that informs me that there's "no hot water for 2, 3 hours, waiting for oil company".
Now, a couple of things cross my mind here. One, there's absolutely no indication in this blue marker scrawl of when this notice was posted; it could have gone up at 1pm, in which case perhaps the difficulty has passed. Two, don't we use steam heat like the rest of New York City? WTF is this 'oil company' crap?
So I come in and check the water, and sure enough, nothing hot comes out of the normally beyond scalding faucet. No dishes being doing, that's for sure, and I'm a bit reluctant to cook or bake until I know that hot water is forthcoming. Don't even get me started on that shower I was planning on.
We may have hot water any minute now. Then again, since it's already after six, we may not.
Ahh, life in a "pre-war" building. The fun just never stops.