It must be something in the water, or maybe it’s a deficit of good red meat, or it could be because the milk always tastes funny – I don’t know – but I do know that logical reasoning skills are definitely not an island strong suit.
It took me weeks to convince our landlady that replacing our broken washing machine with parts and/or a new machine of the same make, year and model was obviously not a real solution since the same parts kept breaking on each machine. Logical conclusion? Try a completely different machine, preferably a new one.
Then, the repairman that she kept calling/telling us to call to fix the washing machine didn’t come for weeks, even when he said he would come the next day. When he finally did come, the “fixed” machine broke again the next week. Then when he sent someone else, that repairman took both machines (at this point there were two broken washers in the laundry room) apart, left the pieces scattered everywhere and went home for the weekend. Our landlady complained to us in dismay that her workers have such low work ethic. She’s a local! She’s lived here I don’t know how many years and is still surprised that local workers have zero work ethic?? I figured that out in our first month! Logical conclusion? Fire useless repair people.
Next, she finally does purchase a new washer for the house. The delivery truck arrives on Saturday and these men are dismayed to find that not only do I want them to hook up the new machine, but I also want them to haul off the two old machines and all the associated parts. Delivery men do not install. Technicians install, but only by special appointment, and they do not remove old machines. Garbage men will remove old machines but only if they fit in the garbage cans (yeah, I’m still figuring that one out). And the other repairman doesn’t do any of the above. So at this point there were three washing machines in the laundry room, two in pieces and one still in the box. How many Kittitians does it take to plug in a washer? Hmmmm……
Today, the original repairman returns, and instead of hooking up the brand new washing machine, he moves that new machine into a far corner, shifts the old machines back into their original places, and reinstalls them. I really wish I had gone down to check his work while he was still on the property because I would love to ask the following questions:
1. Why did you think we purchased a brand new washing machine if we didn’t want to use it?
2. Why would we want to use the old machines, now pieced together (literally) with electrical tape, when we could be using a brand new modern machine?
and 3. If you somehow couldn’t figure out why we would have a brand new washing machine, still in the box, sitting where the old machine used to be, did it never occur to you to come upstairs and ask if we wanted to use the new machine instead? (A related question: If you are capable of moving our beautiful new machine into a corner, why aren’t you capable of coming to the front door and knocking to talk to me instead of standing in the yard and yelling up to our balcony window, hoping someone will hear you?)
St. Kitts. People, I’m telling you, it’s pretty here, but that’s all it’s got going for it.
In this related vein, the Mister and I are excited to have found a new apartment for next semester. We and the roommates have been getting along well, but we all decided it was time for each couple to have their own space. We just agreed on our unit yesterday, after being led to it completely by accident, and we fell in love as soon as we walked in the doors. It’s one bedroom, two bathrooms, with a floor and a half. The living room, kitchen and guest bath are upstairs with a wide porch and dip pool overlooking the golf course, and the master bedroom, bathroom and laundry area are downstairs with access to just enough grassy garden for the dog to play in. As long as everything goes well with the rent, which is a little more than we were hoping to spend, then I don’t see us moving anymore for the rest of our time on the island.
I am incredibly excited; I even did a little happy dance in the living room after the Mister and I had our telepathic “Do you like this one?” conversation and decided to keep it. One of the biggest selling points is that it feels like an actual home, as opposed to just being a student apartment. And our new landlady seems to be very competent and on top of things. I don’t anticipate having any phone conversations with her like I do with our current landlady, where she starts explaining to me how she paid for the repairs and all the trouble she had finding a replacement and basically making herself out to be this big hero because she’s done us all this big unneccesary favor. I’m not kidding; I’ve literally put the phone down and come back for it later and she’s still talking.
December 1 can’t come fast enough.
So do you have any landlord stories to tell, good or bad? How did you know you wanted to live in the place you have now?