Best Idea Ever!
Three months ago, our Apartment Manager showed up at our door with a big blue tarp and a large skein of rope. I figured one of two things, either the landlord had found a tenant who could pay a lot more in rent than I, so I was on my way to the bottom of the Hudson River, or the landlord had found a tenant who could pay a lot more in rent than I, so I was on my way to the bottom of the East River. Fortunately, neither of those possibilities occurred, but only because, thank god, I live in an overpriced walk-up with no dishwasher, bad electricity, and obnoxious neighbors.
Anyway, Apartment Manager was finally getting around to fixing the wading pool that covers the rooftop deck of the unit below mine. It’s not a real wading pool. It’s more like a catch basin. Lacking any apparatus to drain water away from the enclosed deck, the lightest rain, morning dew, or spitting contest off my terrace turns the deck into an amusement park wave pool for local pigeons and the occasional vacationing sewer rodent looking for some fun and sun far from the din of the subterranean rat race (what happens on the roof deck, stays on the roof deck). And of course, what would standing water be without mosquitoes? We have those in proboscis abundance. (Get it? Proboscis = prodigious? Dingo even makes entomology funny!) Let’s just say that, if you’re a New York mosquito in the know, Casa Dingo is the happening place to stop by for a drink and a bite.
After months of complaints, Apartment Manager finally came to solve the problem. His solution consisted solely of laying a tarp across the deck. That’s it. No renovation, no reconstruction, just a big, blue tarp. At first, I thought he might be an idiot. But, as the day wore on, all doubts faded. If he wasn’t hooting or humming the Vonage Woo-Hoo song, he was whistling the Vonage Woo-Hoo song. All. Morning. Long. By mid-afternoon, I was humming the Woo-Hoo song as well, but instead of cheap long distance, I was envisioning rolling his ass up in a big blue tarp before using a Hattori Hanzo katana to make my own Kill Bill sushi. Woo-Hoo, Woo-Hoo-Hoo!
I was sitting at my desk Googling tutorials on swordsmanship and wondering why it takes all day to place a tarp over a roof when suddenly, in the middle of the day, outside of the apartment went dark. UFO hovering over the city dark. Godzilla-like monster outside the windows dark. Or perhaps, most frightening of all, ectoplasm-powered giant marshmallow man walking through midtown dark. I knew this would happen one day. I opened the terrace door — graham crackers and Hershey bars in hand — to find a waving, trembling wall of blue. I should have guessed. Tsunami.
But, I didn’t drown. The wall just stayed there, wobbling at me. Blue wobble wobble. It was the freakin’ tarp.
“What’s going on?” I shouted as I batted my way through yards of blue nylon trying to find an opening through which I could reach Apartment Manager’s neck. “This is a great idea!” he shouted back with glee, rubbing his hands together as if he’d just discovered how to make explosives with two three-ounce bottles of shampoo rather than one six-ounce bottle of shampoo. Apparently, all the whistling and singing deprived Apartment Manager’s brain of much needed oxygen. I can think of no other reason why he decided to secure the tarp to the top of my apartment, sloping the material over the terrace to the far side of the rooftop deck. The back of the apartment looked like an isolation tent from a horror movie except there were no cute, superviolent monkeys with cute, superviolent viruses running around. I did a double-take. Nope, no monkeys. Just one whistling ass.
“You’re blocking off all of our light!” I said. Apartment Manager was convinced that it would be a short-lived inconvenience. He promised that a more permanent and probably far less convenient solution would be in place in less than a week. I wanted to ask him if a “more permanent solution” meant actually fixing the roof so it didn’t hold water like a woman eating two pounds of taffy a week before her period. But I didn’t. Instead, I went back into the apartment to fume. The fuming only lasted a few minutes. Not because I took the high road and decided to just deal with living in a cloudless sky for the next week, but because my fuming was interrupted by phhhrrrt! Phhhrrrt! Phhhrrrt!
I tried to ignore the sound but my curiosity got the best of me. I went back out onto the terrace to find that Apartment Manager didn’t have enough rope to tie down the tarp. So he decided to use duct tape. Yep, Apartment Manager was MacGyvering the tarp to a brick apartment building. It was his very own Blue Badge of Stupid. “This is my best idea ever!” he kept shouting. Woo-hoo! Phhhrrrt! Woo-hoo-hoo! Phhhrrt! Best! phhrrrt! Idea! phhrrrt! Ever! phhhrrrt!
Later that evening, a passing thunderstorm made mincemeat of the Blue Badge of Stupid. It lay sad and alone for two months on the roof deck below forming a delightful mosquito duplex. I watched passively for the first month, then I ordered Sea Monkeys. I hoped to have a colony of cute, superviolent Sea Monkeys with cute, superviolent viruses waiting for Apartment Manager when he finally returned. Alas, that plan was thwarted. Last week Apartment Manager came to fix the roof deck as well as the roof on the top of our building. I thought that would be the end of the repair drama, but I think the real drama is about to begin. Now there is a swath of blue tarp draped over the top of our building. Realizing that duct tape was not the best way to secure a big, blue tarp to brick, Apartment Manager decided to keep the tarp from flying off the top of the building by securing it with bricks wrapped with rope and draped over the edge of the roof like piñatas for kids you just don’t friggin’ like. Or maybe the bricks just say, “Best! Idea! Ever!”
It’s supposed to storm tonight. The wind has already picked up and the bricks swing precariously closer and closer to our living room window. All I can say is that I’m going to bed tonight dreaming of all the Sea Monkeys I could buy with the settlement money.
Posted on Sunday, May 24, 2009 at 10:16 PM.
Tags: In The Neighborhood, La Vida Loca, Oh the Horror!
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Comments & Trackbacks
Blue tarps are uses all the time and they NEVER work. They act like sails until they tear adn just become wet flags...but I see property managers buying and using them all the time. This stuff is more likely to get fixed at the beginning of a month...never at the end.
Oh Dingo… I know you’re already taken but the phrase “...hold water like a woman eating two pounds of taffy a week before her period” made me swoon and if Mr. Dingo ever decides to step out of the picture, just give me a call. (There is a slight chance that this could just be my PMS talking...)
Look at it this way… you can probably fund the rest of your academic career selling Virulent Violent Sea Monkey spawned in The Big Apple on Etsy (I’m imagining that you could package them all cutesy so their intended victims would be overcome by the element of surprise mixed with fear and fumes from festering Sea Monkeys).
Dude! I didn’t realize my supervisor’s brother was YOUR apartment manager!!! They both lack the ability to predict the effect their crappy facilities-management skills will have on the people they’re supposed to be serving. Oh yeah, AND they lack the ability to CARE. Humph. It really is a small world.
Unbelievable. Words do not exist in the English language to adequately describe such stupidity.
Haha! WV - ground88. Is your apartment number 88 by chance?
I hope the storm doesn’t do too much damage though. I know from experience that water in your living room does not make a nice atmosphere to live in…
When you first said you had a rooftop pool, I thought, “Wooo Hooo! I can wear my Spanx under my swimsuit and go there instead of sitting on Claire’s front lawn all summer!”
Then when the tarp came out, I thought you could just pretend you are camping in your walkup. I mean, the blue tarp covering your light MUST look like a tent. You’ve seen those before, right? I know you’re a city girl and all.... Do they have camping stores in the city? Hubby and I have a LOT of camping gear that we registered for and received for our wedding. We went camping ONCE. It rained the entire weekend. I can send it to you so you can pretend play in your apartment if you want. And I still have those Peeps.....
Stupid really is universal. Wow… duct tape, blue tarps and rope wrapped bricks… sounds like hurricane repairs here in the deep south.
at least he didn’t buy a monster-size plastic wrap and wrap the whole building around like a cocoon. though he’d probably need the stay-puft marshmallow man’s help with that one. in the meantime, i will be checking the local news for recent injuries/deaths by falling rope-bricks. please don’t leave your apartment without a helmet.
Sometimes when I read things like this, I’m glad I own my house and don’t have to rely on anyone to fix things. Then I realize that I’M the one that has to rappell down the side of the house with the blue tarp tied to my belt loop and hope I don’t land in the pool and die a horrible death trapped under the blue tarp of doom.
Then I’m not so glad anymore.
Oh. my. goodness.
My mom lived in a considerably swankier brand of non-walk-up building, and she still had apartment management woes.
Not her super, per se, who would have fixed this in a heartbeat, but don’t get me started on what happened when bedbugs may (or may not) have infested her building. No one actually got bitten. No one actually saw any, but a college student did bring some back home from campus and after his parents’ apartment was dealt with, the building hired this firm that had dogs that found bedbugs in most of the building. They then charged the residents more than a month’s maintenance to “fix” the problem.
Ahem.
That was only one incident of many.
Best. idea. ever.
Woohoo.
Wow! Just wow. That’s absolutely awful.
Also, Sea Monkeys are gross. I had some in college. They just swam around getting down and dirty with each other constantly. It was disturbing.
Oh! My! Gosh! I know building managers are supposed to be very handy? But he took lit literally - fixing everything that he can get a hold of! Now I have that vonage tune playing in my head too and that best.idea.ever. going on too!
I hope your enjoying your memorial day weekend!
Wow! I don’t think they are many more words to say. I wish you luck but if you do happen to get settlement money be careful with the sea monkeys.
I thought pools were a luxury feature for a New york appt, you lucky girl
Holy H, you really do see everything where you live! I cannot imagine. Then again, blue tarps and duct tape sound remarkably redneck, which is actually very common where I live, too.
Hope you’re having a good weekend. 
Will you name one of the sea monkeys after me?
(I’ll tell Mr. Hot not to be too impressed with that address anymore, shall I? snort.)
XX
I don’t know what you’re complaining about; you have pigeons, rodents, and the possibility of sea monkeys. Some buildings don’t let you have any pets.
Maybe FEMA hired him to grow something on the roof that can combat Swine Flu. If medicine doesn’t work, you can use your cache of bricks to throw at sick people.
Dude, this so rocks my inner MacGyver. Only MacGyver could create a rooftop wading pool that doubles as an endangered mosquito hatchery with just a blue tarp. Just think of THAT! Every time you slap a mosquito, you’re endangering the future of the planet. Still, mosquitoes are nasty so you totally have the go-ahead from me.
I remember my NYC days when we had to call the super for everything and I swear to you never once did he make the problem go away. it was always worse than before he arrived That is one thing about NY I do not miss
Oh Jesus.
I think you might live in hell.
I have two words for you:
Brown University.
You will love the East Side. They never, never let anyone put a blue tarp on anything.
EVER.
Holy shit. That songs in my head now. Duct tape and a blue tarp? The visual is overwhelming. Can I get a WTF, Landlord Dude?
Sea Monkeys are so weird and scary. I murdered (via the toilet) Logan’s Sea Monkeys when we moved. They had been creeping me out for six months.
MTAE — I’m actually surprised that the apartment manager came out at all. They’ve been complaining about the water for almost a year. Maybe it just took him this long to come up with his best idea ever.
Ms Darkstar — The taffy phrase was in no way based on personal experience. Nope, not at all.
Ms. H — My guess is that it’s not lacking the ability to care but the ability to think. He was completely baffled by my objection to the tarp and my question, “Is that duct tape really going to hold?”
FreedomFirst — I think it will be necessary to make up my own language, consisting of four letter words, to describe such incidents in the future.
Marjolein — The storm ended up passing us by but I’m still worried about those things dropping on our heads.
Jules — Keep the camping gear, send the Peeps. Not kidding.
Tara R. — Maybe I’ll send him down your way. I hear that repair work on hurricane damage is backed up. I’m sure he’ll be a valuable contribution to your community. Disregard anything I may have written about his stupidity.
blakspring — He can’t wrap the entire building so that people on the street could see because the construction work he’s doing is illegal! No permit. And don’t think I didn’t call the Dept. of Buildings. They just didn’t care.
Shania — I so want to do a photoshop of you rappelling down your house with a tarp in your belt.
Jen of A2eatwrite — Bedbug finding dogs? Really? I think they were putting one over on you.
Allie — How can Sea Monkeys be gross? Aren’t they wearing those cute outfits and tiaras like the ones in the pictures?
freetyme — If I have to hear the Vonage song in my head 24/7, you have to hear it in your head 24/7. My mama taught me to share.
mcgood — I never thought about having to split the settlement with the Sea Monkeys. Maybe I’ll just let the pigeons have an all you can eat seafood buffet and be done with the contenders to my loot.
rosie — I never looked at it that way. Wanna come over for a swim?
justrun — Blue tarp and duct tape is not a redneck thing, it’s a missing the frontal lobe thing.
Ree — No! Don’t ruin Mr. Hot’s image of my Carrie Bradshaw apartment in the Gossip Girl neighborhood!
flurrious — Did you mean to say “pests” because, apparently, they have no problem with that.
TCD — I’m all about recycling and there’s no sense in those bricks just lying around.
Marian — Okay, MacGyver, why don’t you get over here and take those bricks down. Leave the duct tape at home.
Jessica — “The Super” is an oxymoron.
Crissy — If we lived there, would Mister come over and fix all my apartment woes?
Summer — Woo-hoo-woo-hoo-hoo! There, I thought I’d get it going again just in case you’d managed to forget about it. Think of it as your penance for murdering poor, innocent Sea Monkeys.
Blue tarps are just teases. They promise that they’ll be faithful, covering just what you need, keeping the rain off, easily being tied down with a bit of rope. Then the first drops of rain fall and they shred into nothingness.
I suppose that could be an allegory for something… hmmmmm…
I’m worried you might get sued by your manager for putting his best idea ever on the internet for everyone to steal!
Oh. Hell. Fucking. No.
I can’t really comment; I can’t top the other commenters, I really can’t.
Duct tape and bricks. Odd boys and front lawns. Peanut butter and jelly. Morons and blue tarps. Some things just belong together, I guess.
GeekHiker — Maybe you should look into bricks instead of tarps. Bricks are solid and relatively dependable. Not only is that a good idea. It may be the best idea ever.
April — Hey, he didn’t patent the idea so it’s fair game. Feel free to use it in your daily life.
sara.jane — Oh. Hell. Fucking. Yes.
Kori — That’s how I felt when I saw the bricks.
Mel Heth — I think Odd Boy has the makings of an Apartment Manager, don’t you?
your apartment manager must be related to my landlord, who yells at me whenever i ask him for help… you know, when things happen like doors falling off their hinges when no one is even in the room, strong winds pass through closed windows (the curtains move!), there’s no hot water… etc. they should hang out.
I need to get to the city more often. Over hre blue tarps are for making pools of waateer in the sand at the beach for toddlers too little to go in the ocean.
sorrin rose — They could hang out and think up all kinds of Don’t Do It Yourself trouble to get into.
Pseudo — I’ve never seen a blue tarp used to make wading pools. Now I’m thinking that blue tarp may be more versatile than duct tape!
How is it that people like this actually get to OWN things, when I will be renting for the rest of my life? You know?
You are being featured on Five Star Friday!
http://www.fivestarfriday.com/2009/05/five-star-fridays-edition-56.html
k8 — It’s just not fair, is it? We can rest assured, though, that his own place is probably plastered in tarp, tape, and bricks. It’s not going to be on the House and Garden Network anytime soon.
schmutize — Hi schmutzie! Thanks for featuring me on your Five Star Friday. Today was more like a one star Friday. Until now! You’ve made it Five Stars! I’m going to check out the other blogs that are featured.
I have a blue tarp. I have some duct tape. Does that qualify me to be an apartment manager?
Ahhh..the joys of renting. See we own our money pit, I mean, house so all mistakes and fixes are all ours.
You just have to be inventive. Get yourself some mosquito guard, a pool net, and a bucket of chlorine. Clean that sucker out, fill with hose attached to kitchen sink and you have yourself a nice swimmin’ hole!