The phone rang - loudly - not fifteen minutes after Will had gone done for her nap. I grabbed the receiver before the call display even registered, and an old lady's voice crackled on the line.
"Hello. I'm a tenant upstairs and I need you to empty your things from the laundry tub upstairs. I believe they belong to you?"
I know we don't have any tenants, and I finally don't share a laundry room anymore, so it didn't take me long to figure out the confusion.
"Are you calling from [our old address]?"
"Yes."
"Because we actually moved out several months ago. We live in a house now." I have no idea why I added that last bit of irrelevant information, except to allude to the fact that I have my own washer and dryer in my own (private) laundry room.
"Did someone move into your apartment?"
"Yes. But I don't know their phone number. Sorry."
"Sorry to bother you."
Clearly, we are still on the "emergency contact list" the residents of our old building put together. The people who moved in must have violated the very specific laundry room schedule, not only by using the machine at an unauthorized time, but leaving their laundry there when it was long finished. And the elderly residents never wanted to just take someone's laundry out of the machine if it was finished and they needed the machine (something I have always considered universal laundry room etiquette).
I do not miss that at all. Thank you, L. Spencer, for reminding me of something else I am grateful for.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
"L. Spencer"?? i thought you would have been very happy to receive a call from him!! or her!!!
Post a Comment