Plumbing Mysteries

Last Saturday morning, there's a knock at the door. I open the door to see a strange woman.

Strange Woman: I live downstairs and there's water streaming down the wall in my kitchen can you check if you have a leak?

A-L: Sure. (Thinking: how could there be a leak, we haven't washed dishes or done laundry in days??)

I check under the sink to find nothing, besides 72 almost empty bottles of laundry detergent. So I return to the lady who I left standing in the stairwell.

A-L: No, our sink isn't leaking.

S W: Maybe it's your wash machine because it's on the back wall.

Should I let her in so she can see for herself? But our house is "in a bad way".

A-L: Would you like to come in and show me where the water is coming from? I'm sorry, our flat is such a mess, so please don't look around.

S W, looking around: Oh, I'm not even allowed in my son's flat!

S W checks out the washer, and says: Yes, that's where it's coming down the wall. Can you call your landlord and get it fixed?

A-L: Sure, I'll take care of it right away. (Too bad I can't remember our landlord's name or number and Paul is in Elgin, where they have no phones, so I'll have to send a carrier pigeon.) Are you the one with the kittens?

S W: No. They belong to the people in the building next door whose children have their own yard but always play in ours.

She exits.

I quickly fashion a sign that says "Kaput/Broken" (so that both Paul and Ted will understand) and fasten it to the wash machine.

Two days pass. Laundry piles up.

Monday morning, knock at the door.

S W: There is now a huge bulge in the ceiling and it's about to collapse. Have you been using the wash machine? You know you can't use it! Have you called the landlord?

A-L: I'll call right now.

S W: You haven't called yet? My husband is going to go ballistic when he sees this.

A-L, to herself: Don't threaten me with the wrath of your husband. I'm American, I'll sue you for distressing me. Out loud: OK.

I shut the door.

Call Paul for the number, then call the landlord who explains that water damage is considered an Act of God and we are not liable for it unless, unless, they can prove negligence on our part.

A-L, meekly: What do you mean, "negligence"?

Landlord: Well, like if they told you about it a week ago and you did nothing about it.

I see in my mind's eye time-lapse photography of water droplets slowly destroying the downstair's neighbor's ceiling as I gallavant about St Andrews all day Sunday. And then I see myself dragged to prison by the insurance company because I can't pay for the water damage. So I call the plumber who says: Don't use the wash machine.

Really??? Because I've been pouring water onto the floorboards since I heard of the problem downstairs. And I've been running a laundry business and washing heavy loads just so I can be to blame for the water damage.

Tuesday morning a note is put through our mail slot:

"Can you please give me your landlord's number for insurance purposes?"

So on Tuesday the appliance guy determines there's nothing wrong with the washer, besides the fact that it doesn't collect, dry and fold laundry, and says the water must be coming from somewhere else. Which brings us to today's visit from the plumber.

Buzzer rings, plumber comes upstairs. I summon Paul to enter stage right.

A-L to plumber: Are you Mike? I mean Michael? Hi, I'm Anna-Lisa. We cleaned up for you, can you tell?

Wry smile from plumber.

Plumber Michael: Are they home downstairs? I think I'll go take a look at the damage.

Plumber Michael returns and starts examining under the sink and the washer: Have you been using the sink?

A-L: Huh, no, can't you tell?? (Pointing to pile of dishes, and thinking I'm hilarious...)

Plumber Michael: Did you use the wash machine after she reported the leak?

I ignore the question.

Paul: Do you think the lady downstairs made it up?

Wry smile from plumber.

A-L: Maybe it was coming from the flat above ours, because the washer repair guy was here yesterday and said there's nothing wrong with the washer, so I can't be sued for negli..., I mean, so there's no logical explanation.

Plumber Michael: They have just a slight stain on the ceiling downstairs, but it would be along this wall here, so I'm not sure where it was coming from.

A-L to herself: So I'm not going to prison for being a lazy, inconsiderate neighbor. Out loud: She made it sound like their whole ceiling was caving in.

Wry smile from plumber.

A-L: Maybe the flat downstairs is haunted.

Wry smile from plumber.

Plumber Michael: Well, I don't see anything wrong. I really don't know where it was coming from. I'm going to go back downstairs. I told they guy I'd stop back in and tell him what I found.

Paul: That his wife is pathalogical??

A-L: Yes, that we've diagnosed his wife as a crazy??

Plumber exits, quickly.