The prior post caused that I was told by someone that there’s a streak of blue meanie in me. Okay. Maybe there was a touch of Schadenfreude built into it… but let me get this point accross: I was rather happy that finally (finally!!) someone was experiencing the same tribulations I’ve been going through for nearly 15 years.
But the tale is far from being told… let’s resume from the point we left off…
That Sunday, my new neigbors tried to hook up their house to the public water line. Their water pipes burst one after another, like Fourth of July firecrackers. And the hardware store was closed, as it is customary during weekends down here. Fortunately, I had an extra shut-off valve to spare, so they wouldn’t reenact the Universal Deluge inside their small living room and the rest of their new home.
Next Monday the power went out three times. I could hear the little missus’ curses from two blocks over. Ah, Cholondron… you’re showing your hand too early, I thought. Their car refused start; they were already late for work, so figure yourself that out. Since there wasn’t no one around to jumpstart the car (remember, I don’t own one), it was quite a sight to see the poor guy walking to the gas station with the dead car battery to fix this issue.
On Tuesday the electric motor of their fridge burnt out, even after I warned them to unplug the thing while they were away from home.. I also told them not to rely on surge protectors, since they don’t work as advertised down here. Cholondron: Three. Them: Zero.
On Wednesday, I was able to spare myself the walk to the supermarket, because the couple went there to replace all the food that had spoiled due to the burnt motor. Knowing the place I live, I took the precaution of carrying along the extra-strength backpack. On our trip there, the silence that hung upon these two while I rode their car was so tense and thick you could cut it with a knife.
My new neighbors stared at me balefully, during the ten minutes it took me to carefully pack the bag with foodstuff at the supermarket, but I knew better. On our way back, the Husband failed to avoid a major pothole in the road. Not his fault actually, since he was trying to avoid another pothole. Their back axle snapped in half.
On Thursday, their Direct TV decoder exploded. I’m kidding you not. The electric power went as high as 190 volts temporarily and I think their plasma screen melted. I never found out. They never wanted to tell me about it.
On Friday, rain was so heavy the car they had borrowed from a friend sunk fifteen inches into a mud morass. It took three tow cars to unstuck it from that place… and one of the tow cars nearly got jammed in the mud, too.
By Saturday, the little Missus was threatening poor Husband with filing a divorce.
Two weeks later, the couple moved out. Wow. They withstood the harsh life in this place for nearly three weeks. A new record for someone else, I guess. To think I had to endure the same treatment for the last fifteen years…
This will be ended in the next post (I think…)