From One Extreme To Another...

Well, if there's one thing I've learnt in the last day or so, it is that you should never mess with Murphy. The one the law is named after. Having had no water yesterday, I now have more than enough of it.

I received a phone call from my neighbour yesterday afternoon at work. Very calmly he told me that the tenant in the apartment above me, left a tap running and proceeded to flood his entire apartment. To the point where water was cascading down the stairs in a manner which would've made Vic Falls look like a trickle. Thankfully he knew where the emergency water shut off was and shut it down. But he suggested that I should come home and see if everything is in order in my apartment.

Needless to say, I left in a rush and charged back home in a manner which would've made the most lawless taxi driver proud. I'm talking driving in the emergency lane with hazards on, incessant hooting and the odd 'Get the hell out of my way' being flung out the window. I even passed a metro cop along the way but thankfully he was pulled over with a flat tyre and could proceed in a high speed chase. Because that would've been the cherry on the cake. My only hope then would be that the apartment was indeed flooded and that he would drown in the ensuing pursuit.

I was beyond flapping. I had visions of my beloved paintings and dvd collection being drenched. Along with my lovely kelims and all other electronic gadgets. Not to mention the horrible thought that the love of my life may have drowned in the process. Considering that she sleeps for 23 out of the 24 hours of the day and nothing gets her out of this stupor, not even my arrival at home in the afternoon. Either that, or that she woke up in time and was furiously paddling around the apartment trying to stay afloat. With her lovely coat reduced to an unsightly frizz. Oh the drama. If only I made her wear her little life jacket before I left for work that morning.

I arrive at the complex and manage to narrowly miss driving through the security boom and gate. With reckless abandon I exceed the 10km per hour speed limit in the complex by 90km and arrive with screaming tyres in front of the block I stay in. My neighbour is already standing outside, waiting for me. Expecting the worst, I unlock the door and expect to be washed away at the same time. And oh joy, everything is in pristine order. The love of my life is still passed out on the couch, dry and frizz free. More importantly, nothing seems to be leaking from the ceiling and other than the lights flickering a bit when I switch them on, there are no damage. I'm so relieved that I could cry at that moment. Until I remember the reason for the panic in the first place. And go from relieved to bedonnerd in 3 seconds flat.

The moron living above me finally shows up at about 19:00. I wisely stay inside my apartment in case I want to assault him with a mop. When I hear that the clean up operation is in full swing upstairs, I decide to take the pooch for a walk. I'm still fuming and considering leaving a strongly worded post-it note on his door. Which would allow me only 2 words, you can guess which two I was considering. But my anger quickly turned into hysterical laughter as I for the first time since he moved into the complex in February, notice the bakkie he drives. Which is clearly a company vehicle. And said company...

CRYSTAL SHOWERS

You couldn't make this stuff up even if you wanted to.