Shamalama Ding Dong (REDUX)

1.3.2015

(below is a reprint of an all-time great venue announcement from 9 years ago this month)



There was a show on in the 70's hosted by Spock Nimoy called "In Search of..." and on the show he explored strange things in the universe, like the Shroud of Turin, haunted houses and if plants could communicate with each other, to name a few. I sure wish the show was still on the air, because I'd call up one of the producers and have 'em bring a crew over to my place as there is some seriously unexplained shit goin' on.

Or so my landlady would like me to believe.

Here's the story: Kitchen sink faucet has a drip. I notice it only because there's a coffee cup under the tap and the drip begins to fill the cup and thus begins to to make the classic drip-drip-drip noise. Additionally, it's the hot faucet that won't tighten and hot water is leaking. I'm thinking about wasted $$. I'm not totally useless so I get out my toolbox, turn off the water, unscrew the faucet, replace the washer and reassemble. The drip stops.

For a week or so.

Yes, the dang drip comes back and this time the drops of hot water are bigger and the frequency of drips is faster. I did what I could so I called my landlady. She said, "I'll come over with a plumber. Is the dog tied up?" I told her we didn't have a dog. Cats. We had cats. "Is the cats tied up?" I said no, but please don't let them out when you come over, because we will be at work and you will have to let yourself in. Then I said, "While yr at it, please call me and tell me when you are coming over." We had a problem with a workman coming over when we weren't home and landlady didn't tell us. Workman stomped flat some plants in the back yard, left tools, hardware and trash around and left the fucking gate open when he left. I didn't care for that. I wanted to know when people were coming around.

She called and said she'll be over in about an hour and asked if the dog was tied up. I reminded her we had cats and told her I wished she would have given us more heads-up than "an hour" so we could get prepared for work to be done. As it was, I remembered there were a couple dishes in the sink, but oh well. Turns out: Not "oh well."

I got home and found the cats to be okay. I looked at the sink and the drip was gone and the dishes were in the sink. Funny. I figured that I'd wash the dishes and so I turned on the water, soaped up a sponge and picked up a glass. The glass was broken. Cracked. It was on its side in the sink and it must have broken when tipped over. And as I don't lay glasses on their sides when depositing into the sink, I guessed that the idiot "plumber" didn't empty the sink when doing his "work" and knocked the glass over, breaking it. Shit, I thought, but oh well: It's just a glass. Then i picked up a bowl to wash it and in it was a jagged shard of broken wine glass. Motherfucker, I thought, he broke two glasses. I looked for other broken pieces and they were nowhere. Not in the recycling bin, not in the garbage can and definitely not in the sink. Holy shit! He broke them, then hid the evidence. But he didn't know he broke the other glass and therefore didn't hide it. I had to call landlady and ask her about it.

I called and asked. She said she standing by guy whole time. He did not break. I said they were not broken when I left and broken when I got home and most of one broken glass was hidden. She said not hidden, did not break. I asked her to ask the "plumber." She called back and said he no break no hide. I said I didn't break them and she said maybe the break themselves. I said, okay, then one cleaned itself up and threw itself away in a place I couldn't find and she said yes. Maybe it break itself.

True fucking story. True. Actually happened.

Tonight - The Homestead

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!