Ok, so, bout a week ago- maybe more now- water decided to pour out of my ceiling in about the middle of my living room. Well, it stopped right shortly after and flowed no more. Monday, the leak started up again - but this time it did not want to stop at a cup of water or so- no no, it instead chose to drip steadily. So, yesterday, in the afternoon time, I called the maintenance folk for my building. I tried to be open minded and not fearful of the strange person that would be mucking about in my place. I locked the Scruffers in the bathroom, as kitties are a no-no, and let the man in.

So, I let Walter B. (as his name patch indicated) in and he was very pleasant. He however did not seem to know much of anything about, well, really anything. So, after he poked around in my ceiling a bit he called a real plumber.

Now, the real plumber took nearly a half an hour to arrive. So, Walter B. and I are sitting there and I of corse am drinking coffee. The whole situation was odd so I asked him if he would like a glass of coffee. He said no but thank you. So we continued to sit. We made small talk about where I worked and what other buildings he works on. He had a stutter and just overall seemed to me to be either a drug addict or an ex-drug addict.

Then the real plumber arrived, looked round a bit, and said that he would need to come out in the morning to cut through the floor upstairs.

So, the plumber and Walter B. left. As my inept maintenance feller was leaving he said, "Thank you for the coffee." Now, since I did not give him any coffee I thought this was an odd thing to say. I responded with, "your welcome" as I did not know what else to do. Then he paused, twitched a bit, and said, "yes, thank you for the coffee" By this time I was very concerned about Mr. Walter B's mental condition. Not so much because I care- as much as that I know he will be letting the real plumber back into my apartment today sometime - most likely while I am away here at work. This makes me very uncomfortable. I have placed Scruffy and all his food and toilet items in the bathroom and shut him away for the day. But still, just the thought of strangers bubbling round in my place bothers me.

So, (no, it gets worse) at work today I am telling this tale to p00h and she says, "Walter B***.? Tall feller? Works maintenance for Lanmark? Oh ya I know him. - ya, he just got out of prison not too long ago."

WHAT!

So, she continues on about how he went to prison because he and his daughter were dealing drugs and he was shooting a gun up into the air so the cops came and found all the drugs and such.

Ya, he has a key to every apartment in my building as well as many others. Great. Wonderful. I'm gonna go ahead and freak right out now. Thank you.