I think it’s time to move
We’ve known the day was coming. From the beginning we knew our landlord wanted to sell the place and that we would have to move. We thought it would be March (a terrible time to sell or rent) but I think we may have to go sooner and here’s why:
1. The front door won’t open. It’s very old and has those antique key holes but God knows where those keys are or if they even existed in the first place. When the guy came to deliver our dinner, I had to run out the back door and around to the front to meet him. He looked at me like I was trying to pull a fast one. Like I was lying in wait to steal my neighbor’s food.
2. The toilet tank won’t fill and the water runs all the time. Let me explain. First, the tank wouldn’t fill. It would flush and we would have to re-fill it with a pitcher of water. We discovered that, if we messed with the floaty thingy, it would start to fill like normal, BUT it wouldn’t stop. The water just keeps on going unless we mess with the floaty thingy again. So I’m thinking of just peeing in the shower from now on.
3. For some time now, the lights have flickered at random times but with a distinct pattern, like we turned our house into a gay bar. Then, more recently, the fans in the bedroom will surge in the middle of the night. They go from low or medium speed to holy-shit-it’s-a-hurricaine speed and back again. Then, finally, the breaker tripped and I had to go into the basement to look at the box, which is right next to the door where the scary gimp lives during the day. I don’t know where he goes at night because I don’t come out of our room and we couldn’t hear him anyway because of the freakishly loud airplane fans.
So the email to our landlord went something like this:
I know you’re sick and we hate to bother you but we are concerned about the broken disco lights, flowing toilet, airplanes in the bedroom and scary gimp in the basement, and we can’t do anything as we are trapped in here because we can’t find the three hundred year old key for the front door.