Once again there are sounds of banging over my head. Yesterday there was more activity inside our living quarters. The hurricanes, tropical storms and, yes, even an East Coast earthquake have caused havoc in the building where we live, an old house in Philadelphia (built in 1732) which was divided into apartments in the past century. As we attempt to work around the dust, noise, fumes and constant conversation, the greatest challenge this week came on Tuesday afternoon after returning from a meeting at a local University. We discovered we had no ground line phone service. We are a dial-up family and so that meant all internet activity ceased until the phone company could fit us into their repair schedule. They did try to get someone out yet that day but there just wasn't anyone available until Wednesday mid-day.
When the phone repairman came about noontime on Wednesday, it was discovered that one of the guys working on the roof the previous day had "popped" (as he put it) our phone wire when he grabbed for it while trying to keep from falling off the ladder or so he initially told us. Then he shouted at me that he would have been able to fix it for less money than the phone company was doing it! I told him I would have appreciated being told earlier and that at this stage of the game I would at the very least appreciate an apology. I also noted it would be good if he could pay for the repair since he had caused the damage. He repeated that he could have fixed it for me. I gently reminded him that I had authorized the phone company to repair it as it was their equipment and because they could supply appropriately trained technicians. I though that then the discussion was finished. I figured we would have to eat the cost of the repair ourselves.
When I returned to my third floor apartment with the phone repair person the landlord screamed at me, " I can't talk to anyone right now" and slammed the door to the room closed where he was working on repairing a wall with sheet rock that was next to the chimney which apparently had cracked during the earthquake, a fact overlooked by the "expert" roofers he had hired three weeks previous. In the meantime the leak which had been caused by the storms, despite the initial repairs in our south bedroom, was still not under control...
By the time all was said and done the landlord screamed at the telephone repairman who remained very calm because, as he put it, " I came here as requested and restored the customer's service, Sir." Before the landlord left the premises he explained that he had found a wire that ran along the side of the house which the local historical society would "fine" him for due to some new regulation. He advised me that this thin wire had travelled over our back deck and down into the second floor south apartment kitchen at the back of the building. I listened, thanked him for "clearing up my confusion" and then noted, " I am happy that my service is now restored so that I can go back to finishing the work I was doing on the internet." The gentleman was a bit quiet after that...
Perhaps another day will be better for discussing why it would have been more dignified to let me know that he and his workers had accidentally disconnected my phone wire and to offer to pay for the damage...AND why my service was running through the second floor apartment anyway?!
AS FATHER LESLIE always says, "WHEN COOLER HEADS PREVAIL."
