Update on the update (sorry, I realize this is interesting to no one, least of all me):
The super called at 9 this morning, explaining with glee that they found the source of the leak upstairs. Yay! I went through my normal routine of lounging in bed for a while, checking my email, turning on my TV and and starting on a 10-minute Pilates video (segment: "Waist Slimmer"), because the bathing suit I ordered from J. Crew arrived the other day, and let's just say I need to be doing a lot of sit-ups.
Knock on my door. I am still in my pajamas. It's a hardly revealing tank top and cute little PJ shorts from the Gap, but still. I throw on a bathrobe, open the door, and it's the plumber (and his assistant), indicating with short phrases and gestures that first, they need to get into my bathroom; then, they need to break into my kitchen wall. "Right now?" I say. "Yes," they say. "Right now."
I'm usually a polite person, but I'm having a hard time hiding my annoyance. "I wish I knew you were coming. I wasn't planning on being home today," I say. Blank stare. (Granted, I was still planning to eat breakfast, take a shower, do some work from home, eat lunch -- not to mention finish the workout video -- and then head into the office, since I'm technically a freelancer and they don't really care if or when I get in; but it's the principle of the thing.)
They are still here. A third dude showed up. I think he might be their boss. He's dressed a little nicer, anyway (i.e., his shirt doesn't have a hole in it). They're nattering on in Russian so I have no idea what's going on. Now my kitchen looks like this:
I haven't had anything to drink this morning, I can't get to the refrigerator to pour myself a glass of water, and I can't go downstairs and get an iced coffee because I can't leave the plumbers alone with access to my apartment.
Help! Oh, and they haven't found a leak yet, either.
Please send water.
Update: Oh, wait! I hear the sound of dripping water. That's... good?
Further update: I am definitely seeing water dripping down along the pipe in that bottom hole (maybe if I stick my mouth under the drip, it will quench my thirst?). The plumber came back, and I was able to extract from him -- he really doesn't speak much English -- that it's coming from the apartment upstairs from me. I can hear them breaking into that wall right now.
Problem is, they were never able to reach the guy who lives in that apartment. (Don't ask me why no one, not the landlord nor the super, seems to have his current phone number or email address.) So the super climbed up the fire escape, entered his apartment through the window, and let the plumbers in that way. Legal or not legal? I have no idea.
I would say that it's this guy's fault for not supplying anyone with his updated contact info; but on the other hand, when he gets home, he's in for a rude shock once he takes a look at the gaping hole in his wall. So it's a wash. Get it? Wash? Sorry. I've got water on the brain. I'm so thirsty. New lesson: Always go pour yourself a glass of water immediately upon getting up -- before the plumbers come in and destroy your kitchen.
Remind me to tell you about the time in my old apartment when the plumbers broke into my wall and found... a secret toilet.
11:54 a.m. OK, apparently I'm live-blogging this shit now.
Fun times:
And get this: In that upper part of the wall, they discovered a garbage bag. Yes, there was a garbage bag in my wall. Apparently, once upon a time, someone did some renovations and left a garbage bag in there. Why? Does this have anything to do with the leak? I do not know.
All right, I've now talked to the super, who explained: That garbage bag is there because once upon a time, there was probably a leak, and a contractor fixed it by taping it and wrapping a garbage bag around it. Because "contractors are shady," the super says. (Amen.) And it's been like that, unnoticed, for at least a decade.
The plumbers are going to fix the leak now, and they cleaned up the dropcloths and plaster and I finally have access to my refrigerator so that I can get some water, and the super said that if I wanted to go to the store, he'll be around to keep an eye on things. And so, I'm signing off from Leak and Garbage Bag Central (for now). Stay dry, everyone. And hydrated.
Last pictures:
Look! I can see my downstairs neighbor's apartment from here. Hellooooo!