The Great Flood
After a long and pleasant afternoon in the park, I arrived back at my flat to find that my roommates had come across an ever-increasing pipe leak. It seemed that Dan and Jeff were eating dinner when they had noticed a small puddle of water in front of the kitchen sink. By the time I had arrived home, the leak had become a bit worse, and water was trickling out of an evidently broken pipe below our sink. It seemed that Andy's first MacGyver attempt of putting aluminium foil on the leak had failed. I immediately checked under the sink to see if there was a shutoff valve. Jeff then told me that they had been looking all over for a shutoff valve. He even picked the lock on the utility closet and searched in vein for a stopcock there.
I then asked if our fearless leader, Marc, was available for help. Evidently, he was out of the country for the weekend. Also, several attempts to ring up the "Emergency Bat Phone" were unsuccessful. While I was present, Jeff finally got through to a real person by using Divia's cellular phone.
"Hi, this is Flat 16, we have an emergency," said Jeff in quite an urgent manner. "We have a fl.....hello? hello?" He then told us, "Damn! I was disconnected, but I did plainly tell him that there was an emergency in our flat." He immediately tried again, but he got a message that the Emergency Phone was out of range. He tried again and again, but it was no use. Soon, water was all over the kitchen, and our floor tile (which was actually just one big sheet of tile) was beginning to get water under it. This created a warped appearance in the tile, and the the water on top it made us reminisce to the days of the Slip N Slide. Andy made an attempt to find an emergency plumber, but on a Saturday night, one could imagine the luck he had. So, we decided that the best thing to do was to continue emptying the buckets over our balcony (which resulted in several near-soakings of our neighbours picnicing at the ground floor), keep mopping, and keep trying to reach the bat phone.
At this point, Andy and I took a walk to the little market on the corner with the yellow sign. On our way out, we stopped at the groundskeeper's flat. It seemed that this guy was home only about one hour per day, so of course he was gone, and with him, any chance of reaching the landlord. When we got back, we found that the leak was now gushing and our one-tile floor was suddenly floating on a river beneath. As we continued looking for the elusive stopcock and bailing water off of the balcony, Sarah, our neighbour one floor below, brought the news that water was coming out of her kitchen light switch. Immediately noticing the impending fire hazard, I picked the lock on their utility closet and shut off their kitchen power via the circuit breaker.
Evidently, somebody finally realized that enough was enough and we had an emergency. 999 was rang up and shortly after the fire brigade came. At this point I found it fit to become a paparazzi, and I got some nice pictures of one fireman's ass (as he was wearing no trousers). Another of the four fireman in our flat began discussing Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky.
"I fu*kin think that Clinton is a hero," he bellowed. "That fu*kin bloke has a great deal of fu*kin power, and he gave that fu*kin woman the time of her life." We then discussed money and education with him, while his partners battled the flood. He told us that they were on call all evening until 0900 the next morning, and he never personally had to save a cat from a tree.
After considering looking for an underground shutoff valve outside the building, one fireman found a hidden panel in our WC that lead to the evasive stopcock that would shut off only the offending pipe. He immediately closed the valve, and the crisis was over.
Upon completion of their duty, the fire brigade had a beer with a neighbour of ours (but according to them, they don't normally drink on the job). After the excitement, we began the laborious cleanup. This involved taking the broken and water-logged shelf that was once under our sink and dragging it along our one-tiled floor to get the water out at the edge by the door, and taking several dustpans to flick the water out onto the balcony.
The only real aftermath was that our neighbours directly below were without electricity for some time, and now our kitchen has an odd mildew smell in the corner. Also, the cabinets below the sink are relatively destroyed. All and all though, it was quite fun, and I would have been more disappointed to have missed it.
I then asked if our fearless leader, Marc, was available for help. Evidently, he was out of the country for the weekend. Also, several attempts to ring up the "Emergency Bat Phone" were unsuccessful. While I was present, Jeff finally got through to a real person by using Divia's cellular phone.
"Hi, this is Flat 16, we have an emergency," said Jeff in quite an urgent manner. "We have a fl.....hello? hello?" He then told us, "Damn! I was disconnected, but I did plainly tell him that there was an emergency in our flat." He immediately tried again, but he got a message that the Emergency Phone was out of range. He tried again and again, but it was no use. Soon, water was all over the kitchen, and our floor tile (which was actually just one big sheet of tile) was beginning to get water under it. This created a warped appearance in the tile, and the the water on top it made us reminisce to the days of the Slip N Slide. Andy made an attempt to find an emergency plumber, but on a Saturday night, one could imagine the luck he had. So, we decided that the best thing to do was to continue emptying the buckets over our balcony (which resulted in several near-soakings of our neighbours picnicing at the ground floor), keep mopping, and keep trying to reach the bat phone.
At this point, Andy and I took a walk to the little market on the corner with the yellow sign. On our way out, we stopped at the groundskeeper's flat. It seemed that this guy was home only about one hour per day, so of course he was gone, and with him, any chance of reaching the landlord. When we got back, we found that the leak was now gushing and our one-tile floor was suddenly floating on a river beneath. As we continued looking for the elusive stopcock and bailing water off of the balcony, Sarah, our neighbour one floor below, brought the news that water was coming out of her kitchen light switch. Immediately noticing the impending fire hazard, I picked the lock on their utility closet and shut off their kitchen power via the circuit breaker.
Evidently, somebody finally realized that enough was enough and we had an emergency. 999 was rang up and shortly after the fire brigade came. At this point I found it fit to become a paparazzi, and I got some nice pictures of one fireman's ass (as he was wearing no trousers). Another of the four fireman in our flat began discussing Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky.
"I fu*kin think that Clinton is a hero," he bellowed. "That fu*kin bloke has a great deal of fu*kin power, and he gave that fu*kin woman the time of her life." We then discussed money and education with him, while his partners battled the flood. He told us that they were on call all evening until 0900 the next morning, and he never personally had to save a cat from a tree.
After considering looking for an underground shutoff valve outside the building, one fireman found a hidden panel in our WC that lead to the evasive stopcock that would shut off only the offending pipe. He immediately closed the valve, and the crisis was over.
Upon completion of their duty, the fire brigade had a beer with a neighbour of ours (but according to them, they don't normally drink on the job). After the excitement, we began the laborious cleanup. This involved taking the broken and water-logged shelf that was once under our sink and dragging it along our one-tiled floor to get the water out at the edge by the door, and taking several dustpans to flick the water out onto the balcony.
The only real aftermath was that our neighbours directly below were without electricity for some time, and now our kitchen has an odd mildew smell in the corner. Also, the cabinets below the sink are relatively destroyed. All and all though, it was quite fun, and I would have been more disappointed to have missed it.
Copyright © 2013 Russell Eric Dobda
