5 minutes in the life of…

5 minutes in the life of…

Someone asked me to post this here, an incident from Portland, so:

The Set-Up (needed knowledge): the upstairs bathroom is diagonal from my bedroom, so I can generally tell what’s going on but it still takes a few steps to get there. The doorway to my room has a small child gate across the outside so I can have the door open and the cats stay in, the dog stays out. This is helpful information as I sometimes forget it myself.

So it’s a Saturday night and I am peacefully standing in the bathroom at the sink washing my hands when Something Unknown in the Universe causes my roommates’ “ConAir 1800” hairdryer to leap from its position on the back of the toilet: landing perfectly on the edge of the small wastebasket, turning itself on. It then proceeds to blow-dry everything which was not wet in the wastebasket. So I let it dry my hands and then I, being unfamiliar with blow dryer technology in general, attempt to turn it off. . .turning it on “High” instead which startles me which startles the dog who startles the cats who knock over Everything in the room scrambling to get away from whatever the hell they think is happening. Toby [cat] vaults off the stereo remote (which was on the bed) as he jumps across to the far side and ducks for cover. This last event causes the already playing stereo to suddenly get very, very loud. This sends me rushing across the hall to the room to turn it down and in my hurry I (of course) miss the child gate . . .tripping over it and landing with a very large THUD on the floor before crawling to the volume control. I turn it down to hear a knock on the door . . .it’s my next door neighbor wanting to know what the Hell kind of party I’ve go going on in here and I had to explain it was just the hair dryer. I don’t think she believed me. This was my first introduction to her. . .
So now our neighbor has me pegged as some partier . This is humorous because at the time both my roommates were out living-it-up while I had stayed home on a Saturday night to read.

Actually, in general, I think my roommates are becoming slightly frightened of leaving me at home alone. The one and only night they were both gone for the whole night the next-door neighbor did something to unclog their drain. That’s great, except. . .
I am sitting on the couch talking with a friend in Atlanta when I happen to notice there’s a geyser in the kitchen. Odd place for it. Whatever they did sent a column of water ( ) shooting straight up out of our drain. My mind flashed back to various The Lost Boys and Poltergeist plumbing scenes faster than I could move off the couch, thus making my first instinct to run like hell. However, I caught myself and forced myself toward the kitchen only to find a Very Large Wave swhooshing across the floor toward the laundry room to attack my basket of just washed clothes. So I had to run upstairs for towels (thus sacrificing the basket of clothes = *sigh*) for a feeble attempt to contain the situation. The “situation” laughed at me, of course. So I ended up with a large number of sopping wet towels and a new pool, fountain included. When it stopped a moment later I realized what was in the volcanic spew = ONIONS (cue: Gypsy’s ALLERGIC). After my miserable towel-containment failure I decided not to even chance getting a rash and had to leave the aftermath for the roommates. So they came home the next morning when I was sleeping to find a somewhat destroyed kitchen and a large, unexplained  bunch of soppy wet towels. They weren’t upset, just confused.
I might add that being new to the townhouse, I had no idea who to call to fix the problem, and could get no answer at the neighbor’s door. *sigh*


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