The Water Must Flow

Wrapping up the more than a decade living in my old apartment culminated in me selling my washer and dryer. You might think that would be a fairly simple affair. It ended up being far from the truth.

I put up a sales flyer in my old building and that evening received a text about the washer and dryer. I met her at the apartment and she and her Dad looked it over. They had to measure if it would fit through her doorway, but that didn’t seem to be a deal breaker. I asked $75 for the two, but would have taken $50. Price wasn’t asked about.

The next day she texted that she would be over with help to get the washer and dryer. Yippee! After work I headed over to the old apartment and started disconnecting them. From this point it starts going downhill.

I took the sliding doors off where the washer and dryer were located and then easily unplugged the dryer and pulled it out into my empty living room. So far, so good.

Behind the washer, two hoses were attached to a faucet. I turned the faucet all the way to the right. To my mind, I had turned off the water to my washer. Alas, no.

I made a couple of turns on the hose coupler and water started pouring out. The hose came right off and now I have water spraying into my apartment like a fire hose. I have no idea how to turn the water off. I desperately try to the put the hose back on the faucet, but that must have looked like hilarious physical comedy from a bad sitcom. I turn the faucet, but nothing happens. My panic level rises.

Did I mention the apartment is on the third floor?

So, in desperation I run to the office to get help to turn the water off. I jump down the stairs, sprint the 100 yards to the office, and bang on the door. The manager hears my cry of “I can’t turn the water off in my apartment!!” and calls the maintenance guy (who happened to live right next door to me and was home). I call my girlfriend and say in gasps of horror, “It’s bad. So bad. Water. Can’t turn off. Bad.” I think I said “Oh shit” about a hundred times.

I was completely soaked from head to heel. I looked like I had stepped into a shower while dressed. It wasn’t far from the truth. I get back to the apartment to try and help and the water has been turned off by maintenance. Apparently, the main water switch was under the bathroom sink. Who knew? Not me. Total time on… probably 10-15 minutes. An eternity.

Right about now, the girl who’s buying my washer and dryer shows up. Remember, I’m soaked. I tell her, “I had a slight mishap with some water.” I’m sure everyone in her party think this dumb fool didn’t turn the water off. Well, I did try.

Anyway, they come up to the apartment and take the dryer down and the apartment maintenance people are already shopVACing all the water and pulling up the atrocious-when-I-moved-in-11-years-ago-apartment carpet.

I get the washer ready for them and the girl slips me $80 in cash ignoring the chaos. I’m convinced her father thinks I’m the biggest moron he’s ever met.

At this time, the apartment manager comes in to survey the damage. Luckily, all the water I sprayed out that drained into the apartment below me made it directly into my downstairs neighbor’s open washer.

In the end, I made a little money, helped out a girl who needed laundry machines, and started maintenance working on replacing my carpet and wood tiles a few days early. I saw it a day or so later and everything was ripped up.

I also learned the lesson to double check where the water shut off is… waitaminute… where’s the water shut off valve at my new place…