The Screen Door Incident

You know...some days I wonder why I bother chewing through the leather straps.

Today was all planned out. I was going to run some errands, drop by and see some friends, and go to the movies with my grandma. Did that actually happen? NO! Here's why...

About two months ago I noticed there was an issue with my screen door that goes out onto my balcony. I rarely go out on my balcony, I've been out there maybe twenty to twenty-five times in the three and a half years I've lived in my apartment.

I figured it was just off its track and I would deal with it when it was light out and I could see what the problem was.

My friend Cheyenne was over a couple weeks after I noticed the problem, and having the nasty habit of smoking that she does, she used the balcony a few times. She noticed the problem as well and we decided to try and fix it. We took the screen door off and flipped it over and I noticed that the back wheel that slides along the track was stuck. I tried to pry it out and we put it back on and it didn't fix the problem. We decided to leave it alone since there was nothing we could do and the next morning I called the office and asked them to come and take a look at it.

Fast forward to today. After a night of hardly any sleep I get up early, get ready, leave to go to an interview, come back to change and get the stuff I need and am virtually walking out the door when maintenance shows up. I had completely forgotten about the busted screen and today was not the day for them to look at it. Despite having plans and places to go I figured they would look at it, see what I saw, replace the screen door, and be on their merry way. Why oh why did I listen to that little voice of reason that lives inside of me?!?!

I make a u-turn up the stairs and we all head back up to my apartment. They head straight for the balcony and go outside to look at the screen door. For the next thirty minutes they take turns opening the screen door from the inside and outside and then pull it off the track and futz with the stuck wheel before putting it back on the track and repeating aforementioned process.

I tell them that they should just replace the screen door but that apparently is logical and they do not seem to understand earth logic, so they tell me they need to go and get some tools and that they'll be right back.

I ask them to hurry because I have things to do and I am not comfortable leaving them alone in my apartment and they leave.

Forty-five minutes later they return with a screwdriver, that's it...a fraking screwdriver.

Now, I'm not known for my patience, but I try...really hard...and after a night of no sleep and them already wrecking the first part of my day I should be considered a saint for not losing my cool right then.

They go back out on the balcony and proceed to fuck with the little stuck wheel for the next forty-five minutes. They pop the wheel out, put it back on the track, and take turns opening and closing the door from the inside and outside.

I am not amused at this point. Who the hell leaves for forty-five minutes and comes back with just a screwdriver?!?!?! SERIOUSLY!!!

It's at this point I start muttering audibly to myself about what fucking idiots they are that what they're doing is the definition of insanity, and aloud I comment on them replacing the damn door again.

That's when they decide to ask me what *I've* done to the door. I inform them, with my "I'm speaking very slowly and calmly so I don't kill you right now" voice, that I have done nothing to the door because I don't go out on the balcony.

For good measure they decide to try and pry the wheel out again, which they do, and guess what happens? That's right...it sticks...AGAIN!

Now here's when they seem to realize that their screwdriver idea is a failure and they inform me that they need a different tool and that they'll be right back. Yeah fucking right...

Half an hour passes before their return and they don't have a new screen door with them. No, this time they've brought a different screwdriver. :::facepalm::: Are you fucking kidding me?!?!?

Now...now I'm mad. So I do what any sane, rational, intelligent person would do. I stabbed them to death with a butcher knife. Just kidding. I called the office.

The ever so helpful office lackey (read condescending bitch) informs me that there are certain "tricks" to fixing a screen door and that the maintenance guys have to try everything before they can justify replacing it. I CALL BULLSHIT!!!

I hang up the phone and resign myself to the fact that my day is screwed while the maintenance morons repeat the process of using a screwdriver to pop the wheel out, put the door back on the track, and then open and close the door repeatedly for an hour before deciding that a screwdriver is not the answer.

The leave...again...this time for an hour...and come back with...wait for it...

Wait for it...

PLIERS! :::insert audible string of profanity here:::

Now, I can do one of three things. I can take the high road and tell them that I need to leave and that they'll have to come back another day...two months from now. I can fly into a homicidal rage and stab them to death with one of the screwdrivers. Or I can take the immature road and employ psychological warfare against them.

I took the immature road. Cue Carl Douglas because it's Kung Fu Fighting time.

I'm not sure if they were getting frustrated at this point or if the psychological warfare was beginning to work because they gave up after fifteen minutes with the pliers. This time they left for twenty minutes and returned with an entire bag of tools. Wouldn't that have made sense to begin with?!?!?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

It was then that I decided I had to get drastic. I went into my room, hopped onto my computer, and I downloaded the worst, most annoying, most aggravating, most obnoxious music I could think of. POLKA!

Once that was done I loaded it onto my iPod, turned off Carl Douglas, and cranked the polka tunes. Alas, after eighty minutes of it my ears were starting to bleed and it didn't seem to bother the maintenance morons so I gave up and turned it off.

At this point it's 4:30 in the afternoon and all I've managed to accomplish today is making my ears bleed. Go me!

Seeing as the office closes at 5:00 I asked the maintenance morons if they were close to being finished or if they had finally admitted defeat (I'm pretty sure at this juncture in time that they've jacked up the screen door more than it already was) and would be bringing me a new screen door and they inform me that if they can't get it solved tonight they'll come back tomorrow.

Now I've reached that point where if I had a screwdriver near me I probably would have picked it up and plunged it into the closest maintenance moron's neck, but luckily for me there wasn't one in reach.

I inform them that they've already ruined one day of my life with their idiocy and that they will not ruin another. Either they fix it before they go or Monday they bring me a new screen door.

At 6:00 they realized they are not the skilled handygods they thought themselves to be and left, with their bag of tools and their proverbial tails between their legs.

I better get a new screen door on Monday or there will be blood. I'm just sayin'...

*************

Randomness:

My apartment could double as an ice box right now.

That's Right, I Googled It:

How to play the bloody murder game.

Stuck On Repeat:

Kung Fu Fighting by Carl Douglas



Who Would Be The "Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner":

In a timed battle to destroy as much of NYC as possible - Stay Puft Marshmallow Man or Mr. Kool-Aid?

Quote Zem On Zat:

Jerry: People, please refrain from being stupid. You're wasting my bullets.

Hasta La Bye Bye!