Life. Men. Alcohol. Shoes.

Friday, August 18

Almost like living in a trailor park...

There are certain expectations one has for their home. One of those is running water. Last night, after post-work pitchers of sangria at Park, followed by beers and cigs on the rooftop at the Delancey, I arrived home to find no running water. No warning, just a note which miraculously appeared on the front door between 8pm and 1am. At this point, I immediately regretted smoking all those cigs, cause there was no way to brush my teeth, or evade the looming hangover. (My usually evening remedy is 3 Advil chased with a tall pint of water).

This morning, I awoke at 5:30am to a splintering headache and swamp breath. Since the water was supposed to turn back on at 5am, half asleep I brushed my teeth and chased 3 Advil with a big glass of water.

At 8am after seeing the state of the brackish, rusted water coming from my pipes, I am waiting for the inevitable stomach cramps from drinking unclean water. I should have remembered to let the water run, flushing the pipes clean, but again it was dark - I was half asleep and I'm sure to completely regret it...


At 3:09 AM, Blogger Juliette said...

Oh no...that happened to me once in the East Village...right when the blizzard struck NYC. The heat and water went off and it was the worst experience of my life! Anyway, random props, love the blog =)


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