My garbage disposal is broken.
I know this because it makes a horrendous not-quite-right noise when I turn it on. Also, there is a foul, foul odor emanating from within the bowels of my sink.
“So submit a maintenance request to the property manager’s office,” you’re saying – you Rational Person, you.
“Except… well… I mean…. maybe it’s not really broken. Maybe it’s just… tired Like, I don’t know for sure. It could be something easy to fix, maybe. Maybe I’ll take a look at it, first…” I respond.
Good Lord. Is this what men feel like?
This? THIS is a garbage disposal? (I'm sorry, "In-Sink-Erator"). This looks like something you'd fill with Hot Toddy and bring to work on the 7 Train.
Would Larry The Maintenance Guy (name changed to protect the innocent) give a shit if it turned out to be some minor “oh, let me just flip this ‘on’ switch” kind of issue? No, no he would not, because if Larry The Maintenance Guy is like Every Other Person I know who has to often work outdoors and in unpleasant conditions, he will relish the time underneath my sink, awful smell be damned. He might even take a comically long time locating said ‘on’ switch, because my god this girl keeps the air conditioning on high. Seriously. It’s like the fucking Tundra in here, lady. Are you playing Freeze Out?* There’s no one else here.
But on the flip side of this neurotic little coin is the possibility that something Horribly Wrong has occurred, and by continually trying to ‘run’ the broken disposal, I’m causing irreparable harm to it. Larry the Maintenance Guy will show up, I will turn it ‘on’ to show him the problem, and a look of terror will cross his craggy face: What are you doing, crazy lady?! Turn it off! Turn it off! TURN IT OFF! NOOOOOOOOOOOOW! (dramatic slow-motion leap toward the switch, tools cascading from a rusty tool box on the counter, Julie shrieking in terror and flailing her arms: What did I do? WhatdidIdo? WhatdidIdo?)
Ahem. Anywho.
As I was saying, my garbage disposal is broken and I plan to promptly report it through the proper channels as soon as I finish doing every single other thing I can possibly think of to do.
*Freeze Out is a delightful little game invented by a friend who is a descendent of Oklahoma royalty (I know this because the word “princess” is in her email address). It’s great to play in offices where control of the thermostat is up for grabs and you just happen to have a personalized Snuggie hidden beneath your desk for such occasions.
the sloppy copy 