Saturday, April 21, 2007

A Bathroom Oriented Tempest

After returning from Pomona and a heavy night of consuming certain liquids, my Saturday morning had a distinct goal, which was to go somewhere to get a Bloody Mary. Evan was downtown buying some new clothes. Eric, Stef, and I were still at home discussing the events of Friday night. I had already taken a shower and was ready to conquer Saturday, Eric followed the same path. It was the late morning, nearing noon, and we were waiting on Stef to get ready. A shower and a change of clothes were all that was needed.

Eric and I were sitting in the living room while Stef was using Eric’s bathroom, the upstairs one, to get ready. He was done with the shower but while he was doing the post-shower things, Eric and I heard something odd from the bathroom. It sounded like a gust of water, as if the shower head came undone. While this blasting noise was going on, we heard Stef yelling, “Oh god! Oh god!” Looks of confusion were exchanged between the two of us. We ran over to the door and knocked and asked, “Stef? You decent?” We kept hearing the rushing noise of water and more “oh god.” After we asked about Stef’s status, we saw from the top of the door water coming out like a waterfall. And below, water was bleeding out from underneath the door. A look of shock was exchanged between the two of us. Suddenly the door opened and there was Stef, only in a pair of boxers, sopping wet yelling, “What do I do? What do I do?” Behind him looked like a hurricane was in the bathroom. He slammed the door and remained in the bathroom.

In our house there are indoor fire sprinklers in every room. With no exception, there is one in Eric’s bathroom and Stef found a way to dispatch water from the one fire sprinkler after he got out of the shower. Eric and I had no idea what to do. I went and grabbed as many towels as possible since there was water coming out of the bathroom at a rapid rate. Eric was on the phone with 911 explaining that this wasn’t an emergency but that there was water coming from the fire sprinkler.

The towels I grabbed made no difference; I padded them down outside the entry way into the bathroom. Because of the velocity of the water, the towels were drenched within four seconds. From the 911 call, it was explained that the fire department was on their way. Eric and I went searching for the water main, and we had absolutely no luck finding it. It felt like a Chinese fire drill when we went outside; we kept running around the house. There was the circuit board, the cable hookup, the telephone connection, but no water source. Keep in mind that while all this is going on, a fire alarm is going off.

The fire department came probably seven minutes after the 911 call but it seemed like an hour. The truck parked in the middle of the street and out came nine fire fighters. They rushed into the house as Eric, Stef, and I were standing outside taking in this surreal event. The lead fire fighter asked where the water main was and we had no answer. They did the same route Eric and I did. They ran around the house, went into the garage, and then finally, there was a brown wooden box on the wall next to the garage door. It had a sign that said Main Control. However, the box was sealed shut with screws. The fire fighter grabbed some tool and yanked out the main piece of wood that made up the box. Low and behold, there was the pipe and lever we were looking for. They turned off the water and the hurricane came to a stop.

While the fire fighters were doing their actions, we cornered Stef and asked what the hell happened. Stef explained that while he was showering, he had a shirt that had some wrinkles and wanted to get them out; the conclusion was to hang the shirt, which was on a clothes hanger, on the fire sprinkler and have the steam of the shower remove any wrinkles from the shirt. When trying to remove the hanger, it was not coming off the sprinkler properly and he applied some force that ended up breaking the little glass strip that holds all the water back (the same piece that explodes when exposed to intense heat), and out came Katrina.

The firefighters continued doing their magic; they ran back and forth from their truck and brought in various tools and contraptions to help get the water out. They ended up detaching Eric’s toilet so the water could drain faster into the big hole that the toilet was connected to. They then went into the garage and turned off the power since the water was bleeding into the garage walls where the circuit board was; this was a fire hazard waiting to happen. One of the firemen brought it to our attention that the hall closet underneath the stairwell was getting wet so we had to remove all the random items out of the hall closet. Now, Kyle, the lost housemate, we made his room the new storage room while vacating the hall closet.

Once the water was pretty much flushed out of the bathroom (or ground zero), the firemen collected outside and the lead fire fighter had questions for us, like, what the hell happened? Stef took the stage and revealed his actions; after the story was told, he also explained that he didn’t even live here. Suddenly, a burst of hysterics came. The lead fire fighter thought this was the funniest thing ever.

“Wait, you did this, and you don’t even live here?!” Frank the fire fighter was astonished, “Steve! You gotta here this,” then Steve the storm trooper came over and the news was delivered to him.

“Yo, Hank, come over here, you gotta here this!” Steve called for Hank the hero who arrived.

“What, this guy did it and he doesn’t live here?” Hank the hero, too thought this was amusing. Eventually all the firefighters found out and Stef stood there in shame. After all that, the lead fireman had paperwork for us to fill out, some forms to sign, and some words of advice to give us. He told us there was a lot of water damage and that we need to get a water salvage team out here ASAP in order to prevent any further water damage and mold buildup. I called the landlord while Eric was searching for water salvage companies in the yellow pages. I left a message explaining the situation and Eric found a company called Servpro. Both wouldn’t get back to us until an hour or so later.

The landlord called me back; I answered with, “Hey, Cliff, how’s it going?”

And his reply, “Well, you tell me!” I figured he was pissed. His first question was whether or not we had renter’s insurance, which I had failed to get, even after I had some conversations with coworkers about buying some. He then wanted to know how this exactly happened and I told him the whole story. Once he heard it was due to a friend putting a clothes hanger on it, he said that this was an act of negligence and that he was not sure if his insurance would cover the damages. This was when I started to get really scared.

The landlord said he would be over in a couple of minutes and when he arrived was the same time Servpro came over. They spoke to the landlord and explained what they were going to do. Before the team could do anything, they needed a deposit, which the landlord wasn’t going to cover and Eric and Stef didn’t have the money. I grabbed my checkbook and asked how much. The Servpro man calculated it all out and said $644.24. Ouch. I wrote the check, and they went to work.

From this one sprinkler in the upstairs bathroom, it not only flooded out the bathroom; the water bled into Eric’s bedroom, which is right next to the bathroom, and then roared down the stairwell like a waterfall, while doing this, the water absorbed into the stairs and went underneath in the hall closet (as mentioned above), and then into the downstairs hallway and downstairs bathroom. Our garage is underneath the upstairs bathroom and Eric’s bedroom, so of course, the water absorbed itself into the garage as well; it was trippy being in the garage and seeing water coming out of the light bulb socket and the outlet that was in the ceiling.

Servpro had started their magic once the check was made. They told us to empty out Eric’s room since his carpet was pretty damaged; all of his belongings went into the living room, which meant his queen size bed, his desk, nightstand, reading lamp, clothes, shoes, random knickknacks, everything. Then the team went into further work; they began removing the carpet from the downstairs hallway, the stairwell, and Eric’s room. Once the carpet went bye bye, so did the foam padding underneath. Now there was just dry wood everywhere, along with the nails that hold the carpet in. They then brought in dehumidifiers, which were to start sucking out all the moisture from the floors. Seven of these were installed: in the downstairs hallway, the mid part of the stairwell, a couple in Eric’s room, and a couple in the upstairs bathroom. Our house looked like a combination of a bomb that went off to us moving in or out of the place, and the house being remodeled. It officially sucked, for lack of a better word.

Eric, Stef, and I migrated to our kitchen table so we were out of their way. We were playing a card game, Quiddler to be exact. Rebecca had contacted me about meeting up with our friends Shawna and Stacey; I wasn’t sure at first because I found myself in the first stages of depression but then I thought that some fresh air and the idea of getting out of the house would be good for me, so I said yes. She arrived and saw the damages. We left a little after that and got dinner with Shawna and Stacey. I felt bad since I was in a slightly irritable mood and that showed while at dinner. I think they forgave me, though. This day seemed like the longest day possible, so much had happened in such a short amount of time, and it was all real, I never got to wake up from it. The sad part is that it’s still going on, we have no idea when the repairs will end.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Peter,
I can't imagine this happening to anyone but you! It reads like a script from a real bad sitcom.
Tim