Jack Kukoda

Oh, boiler, what a coquettish tease you are! You turned the heat back on in my apartment only to take it away less than an hour later!

Here’s what happened yesterday: I called 311 after waking up around noon to report that my heat was STILL out after 5 full days. I don’t know what you’ve heard about 311, but after dealing with them, I can assure you they are all morons who don’t’ deserve to live another minute. After making my complaint, I asked the operator if she could transfer me to someone who could tell me what action to take if the heat in my building was not restored in a few days. She tried to argue with me for some reason, then obliged. The next person I talked to didn’t even realize someone had transferred me to her. She thought I had called her directly. When I explained that, no, someone had directed me to her, she seem confused. Apparently the first operator, unsure of how to direct my call, just transferred me over to another random operator without informing her first. I have to admit, that’s a pretty sweet move. If I worked in an anonymous, giant bureaucracy where I could just put someone on hold, then transfer their call to an ususpecting co-worker, I would do that shit all the time. Hell, before I put the person on hold I’d tell them that I was about to transfer them directly to Mayor Bloomberg himself. “Uh-uh, Mayor Bloomberg,” I would say. “I’ll put you right through to him and you can explain your problem to him.” Then I would route their call to whatever asshole in the office I liked the least that day.

Anyway, the boiler repair company finally showed up and spent the afternoon down in the basement literally hammering away at the boiler. Here’s a tip: if you ever want to start a boiler repair company, all you need are a couple of sledgehammers and some big pipe wrenches, because if my building’s boiler company is any indication, the way to fix a boiler is just to smash it repeatedly. Don’t waste your time trying to fasten parts together or clean the thing out first. Just grab a hammer and get to smashing. Oh, and make sure to drag a bunch of garbage and shit through the halls. That seems to be important, too.

Finally, around 6pm my furnace started hissing and I noticed that I had hot water once again. Joy! I turned on the shower full blast, trying to heat the apartment as quickly as possible. Then I heard a knock at the door. It was my neighbor Chu.

(Quick note on Chu: I met him last week when he accosted me in the hallway as I was returning from the airport. Chu wanted to know if I had high-speed Internet access in my apartment. I told him that yes, I did. Chu was excited about this and suggested that maybe sometime I could let him use the Internet and he would pay me for it. I lied and said that I would think about it. I don’t know what kind of arrangement Chu had in mind. Would I charge him by the minute, the hour, or would it be a flat fee? Would I just sit there in my bedroom watching a stranger check his email or did he expect me to leave him in privacy? I never found out.)

Chu was knocking on my door this time to ask if I was using hot water. I told him I was. Then Chu told me that he had just shut down the boiler. Chu might as well have told me that he had just released some wild lions throughout the building. “Why did you shut down the boiler?” I asked. After all, the whole building had been waiting for the boiler to start up again for 5 days now. Chu explained that the boiler was smoking and he thought it was going to start a fire. He offered to take me down to the basement to show me, but I declined. I have a weird hangup about going down into dark, rat-infested basements with strangers who want to use my apartment as an Internet cafe. Chu asked if I had the number for the super-actually, Chu didn’t use the term “super.” He asked if I had the number for “the black guy.” I just figured out who he meant because I’m an awesome detective and my roommate and I are the only non-Chinese people in the building, so there were few options when it came to cracking the identity of this “black guy.” Chu said he would get back to me when he talked to the super, but at this point I think it would just be easier to move.

I’ll try to have some cheerier stuff to post later on. Or sexy photos of myself. That’s a win-win, folks.