We arrived home just after midnight and Karen, having to work early the next morning, went straight to bed. I hit the couch to watch some old House MD reruns. I was laying there enjoying the sarcastic wit of Dr. Gregory House, when I was alerted to a most peculiar sound coming from the kitchen. It was kind of like the sound a tire makes when you let the air out of it. I raised my considerable frame to a vertical state and went in to investigate. To my surprise and horror there was a steady stream of high pressure water shooting from the washing machine hook up. There is a bright orange lever attached to the nozzle so I turned it to the left. This action increased the force and the noise of the spray. I turned it back to where it was and called my landlord. It was 1:30 in the morning and I did my best to relay to him the importance of his immediate presence. After speaking for about two minutes I heard him say.. "Who is this?" I took a deep breath and tried again. This time dropping all subtlety. " Apartment 502! Upstairs. Emergency! Come up now!" He still was unable to grasp neither who I was or what I wanted. A few more attempts and I think I got my point across as he said he would be right up. The spray was getting bigger and I felt I could use another set of hands so I rushed to the bedroom and woke Karen. She was as coherent as the landlord for the first few seconds but came around much more quickly. She got up, obviously annoyed, and came with me to the kitchen. Her first instinct, as was mine, was to try the lever. She tried it a little too hard and the entire works came off of the wall effectively creating a fire hose in the middle of our kitchen. We were both instantly drenched with water and we shifted in to full on panic mode. The kitchen was filling up faster than the boiler room in that scene from Titanic, and we both had to fight off our instinct to flee to higher ground. The water had breached the kitchen and was now filling up the living room and making it's way toward the bedroom. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. I ran to let the landlord in, who immediately took control and found the turn off valve hidden behind the sink cabinet. We stood in three inches of water panting like overweight dogs on a hot day, and he had this air about him like I was a complete idiot for not just simply turning off the water as he had done. In my defence I looked for it and only found the one that turned the water on and off for the sink. Also, his delicate little Asian hands may have been able to reach behind the sink cabinet but I certainly would have drowned before squeezing my meatloaf sized fist behind that thing. The emergency was over as quickly as it began and I spent the next hour watching our landlord and his frazzled wife mop up our apartment. I would have much rather watched the ending of House.
Oh Well, at least I have it on DVD.