Posts tagged ‘floor’

Meanwhile in Vienna…

As y’all know, we recently were vacationing in Italy, Bibione to be exact.

We were gone 17 days. One day before our departure our elevator (living on the 6th floor, or 7th of you’re American) was shut down for service repairs. Which was very delightful for me, now having to haul the suitcases down to the basement garage (6th floor up, so 8 floors total).

It was out of commission for one and a half weeks during our absence.

We later learned it wasn’t just serviced, oh no:
They replaced the hydraulics.

Before the replacement the elevator made a VROOM sound, when it was starting to go up, that you heard in the entire apartment!

Now that VROOM sound is gone. Now it is making a TOC TOC TOC TOC sound when going up. The entire length of the journey UP.
THAT YOU HEAR IN THE ENTIRE APARTMENT!

Fuck me sideways.

What hydraulics did they use? Second grade, second hand, salvaged from a scrap yard??

Jesus ascending Christ!

If you’ll excuse me, I have to break something…in the elevator…

A.

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Tales from the renovation part 2

After the walls had been drenched, and the floor had been soaked, the furst step had been to dry them.
Slashing the walls, drilling holes into the floor.

I wish they’d let me do the slashing and the drilling. You know, get some of that pent up anger out.

So, insurance pays new paint, new floorboards.

Renovation time, baby!

Since getting that part of the den painted and refurbished seemed like as good a time as any to actually re ew the furniture too, so you can store more crap, we decided to actually do that.

Furniture store.
This, I had to find out, might actually be that first stage of prehell horror and torment that religitards always rave on about.
“Here look at this beautiful furniture you can’t possibly afford!” Or “Look at this totally stylish, up to date, modern way of making a room … SEEM LIKE IT WAS DIGEST, SHAT OUT JUST TO BE HAMMERED IN SHAPE BY A LUNATIC WITH A RUBBER HAMMER …in your price category.”

And then of course, our little odyssey.

We went, we saw and we STILL are fighting. No vici this time. Not yet.

On the 14th we went to the furniture store and fell in love with these small closets.
We ordered them, together with a really neat wardrobe.
On the 26th we got a call that one of the closets we order, wasn’t available any more.

???

How, HOW on earth can we *buy* something that they do not have anymore? Or let me rephrase that, HOW can they SELL anything that they do not have???
I could understand if they couldn’t get that, and told us about the unavailability when we wanted to make the purchase. But twelve days LATER???

No worries though, they organised a showroom piece for us, at the great discount of 10 bucks.
It is in (paraphrasing) “best condition”.

So we went to pick up the packaged up pieces – which this furniture store couldn’t at all tell us how big they’d be, a feat that IKEA even puts on their website – luckily we could fit them in our car, them we went to pick up the prime condition showroom piece.

At first the showroom employee thought they had reserved the one with the kicked in door, and then it turned out the one we ACTUALLY had reserved was also damaged.
No purchase.
Keep that thing, and …. why on earth did they put a damaged showroom piece of a no-longer available closet BACK in the showroom?
Are they going to scam a few people out their money???

Anyway. As we try to rectify thst situation we got the walls finally painted and the floor renewed.
After they tore out the floor boards the PVC floor the forst tenants of this apartment had installed came back to the light of day.
The most 80s, vulgar, neon, trash design I have ever laid eyes upon. Just knowing that this is oit there underneath the new fkoorboards causes me to sweat in panic.
The most irritating fact is that someone WILLINGLY chose this. If I get up, on a daily basis, see this, I’d have to take cocaine. Upon coming home, again, cocaine!
But hey, it was the 80s.

Until a possible part 3, take care,
A.

Tales from the renovation part 1

In case I had neglected to blog about this*, here the backstory to the renovation:

In December 2016, on the 18th to be exact, a waterpipe broke, and we had to call a plumber, who then arrived shortly on the 19th. Hey, it was a Sunday.
He mended the broken pipe, but said that due to the wet wall, he couldn’t reattach the bathroom tile, until the wall was dry, he then also neglected to reinstall the faucet behind which the waterpipe had burst.
In case you were wondering, yes, it was the shower faucet.
For the next two weeks we had to ride the elevator downstairs, trek through the basement, access the common showers in the sauna.
At least our apartment building HAS a sauna with showers! Otherwise, we would’ve been screwed!

On the 23rd I noticed that the wall on the other side of the bathroom looked wet.
It was.
Soon we found dark spots that looked like mold.
It was.
Thankfully we got help soon, in small spart from the landlord (whose insurance pays for the whole ordeal anyway). Mold killed by 30%H2O2, and the noisiest machines I had ever had the honor to see inside and apartment got put up.

We had to do it little house on the prairie style, and bunk up in the living room, because the blow dryer was innthe bedroom, hoses were lying around as if they wanted to fuel the fucking space shuttle!
Two drying machines facing the walls (and the heaters with heat sensitive meters on it for payment!) rumbled on through night and day.

No wolverines were harmed in the drying of these walls.

Then the garish nightmare machines got evicted, one by one, as the walls grew drier and drier again.
At that point we had the luxury of our own shower back. That had taken some fourteen days. The driers, those had been a constant noise in our apartment after that, and for some six weeks in total.

So we began our ascend back to civilisation of the 21st century, by trading the mattresses on the floor for our bed, and trading a living+bed-room for separated rooms.
Woohoo!

Continued in part 2.

*Yes, it is my blog, and still I am too lazy to check, plus, I just don’t give a shit. I’m human, deal with it.

Cabin of Death under repair.

“Dear tenants, please notw that from the 2nd of May until the 12th of May 2016 this elevator willbe offline, due to maintenance and repair. We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

Alright.
I am not burning down the house.
Yet.

I live on the 6th floor, or the 7th if you can’t count right (a.k.a. American), which means on a normal weekday I go down once in the morning, and ideally, up once in the afternoon. If there’s an “emergency” more often in both directions.

This time span includes a weekend, a holiday and a banking holiday. I hope that am all ten days from rhe earliest hour possible, until the latest possible, there will be men (amd women?) laboring hard to improve our technological standard and safety.
Because of not, I will become irked.
And then I will burn shit.
So I leave the house at 6am, there better be a bunch of schmucks greeting me with a smile and greasy faces ready to weld something, including the banking day, and holiday.
Or you turn the darn thing back on during the four day weekend you and your lazy jerkoffs are going to take, now are you?

I know, they will not be turning it on, and I know, they will not be working from 6am till 10pm, but at least I was able to let off some steam…

Take care, and steer clear of elevators…
A.

Life ain’t that hard, Escalate and Elevate

It is simple, both devices take you from one floor to another. And for both you don’t need a PhD in theoretical physics.

Look, it’s simple:
★ Escalators, are basically stairs that go up, or go down:
•stand on the right
•walk on the left
•don’t sit on the handrail and don’t be surprised to plummet to your death if you do
•tie your Shoelaces beforehand, or else they may get caught in the thing
•don’t “run” in the opposite direction staying stationary
•watch your step upon stepping on and off the thing
•no pram, bike, wheelchair, dog or unicorn on this

★Elevators, these cabins of death move vertically, not yet in the horizontal plane, or diagonally, it is bets to sing “Oh lord, what is I gon’ do?” upon entry, and keep these in mind:
•I can’t stress the importance of doors.
•press button of desired target floor
•don’t: fart, defecate, urinate, spit, litter, fuck, vomit…eat, drink…deal with or consume drugs, murder people or animals, make or play music, apply deodorant/perfume/cologne…or worst of all: converse.
•upon exit, don’t press (all) other floor buttons
•someone approaches the elevator, hold the door open, don’t close it on them (or let it happen)
•no silly creepypasta games. Ever.
•it is not funny to press the emergency button
•in case the elevator gets stuck, press the emergency button, and remain calm, take long breaths
•IN CASE OF FIRE THE SHAFT ACTS LIKE A CHIMNEY, so DON’T use it…
•if it has one, do not press the STOP button

Now that this is cleared up, we can take the stairs…
•don’t put flowers on them, buy a shelf you cheap frak
•don’t sit there like homeless people, get a couch you cum stain…

Take care,
A.