Did Gershwin Do Windows?

One of the first things I noticed when I moved into the Gershwin is that there’s something wrong with the water. Mind you, the water across the street at the Longacre was fine. Same supplier – the City of New York.

Anyway, I think the water is hard. I can run my hands under the water for less than a minute and my skin gets all pruney – like it does when you fall asleep in the hot tub for four hours. And it makes my skin all dry. I keep hand lotion all over the house.

I notified maintenance early on – back in January when I bumped into a guy in the elevator who was wearing jeans and had a radio on his belt. I asked him if he worked in the building. He said yes, and I told him about the water weirdness. His auto-response was, “We don’t treat the water. I know because I was here when they built this place.” In other words, “Tough.”

So I went to the front desk and filled out a maintenance request form. I was talking to the concierge about it when the maintenance guy from the elevator walked up and barked, “I already told you we don’t treat the water. What’re you talking to him about it for?” I stood firm and told him I didn’t like living in a place for three grand a month if I can’t take a shower. I asked who they get their water from, and he wouldn’t provide me the name of the utility company. I wasn’t getting anywhere with this guy, so I asked him nicely “Who is the building manager?”

“I am,” he replied.

Great. That’s just my luck.

I never heard back. After a couple weeks, I noticed a bright blue stain had formed in the bottom of my bathtub, next to the drain. I cleaned the tub, and the stain came off. A couple weeks later, the stain was back. So I ordered a $100 shower filter online and installed it. It didn’t help much at first. (I think it’s providing some relief now.) This was back in March. Still no word from maintenance, so I went down to the front desk and filled out a second maintenance request, indicating that I wanted the building manager to come look at the turquoise blob in my bathtub. I did note, of course, that my new expensive filter didn’t seem to help.

No one ever called.

Later I took pictures of the stain with my digital camera, printed a 5 x 7” copy and stapled it to a third maintenance request form. This one started with, “Ten days since my last request,” but I was polite – just as I was each time I saw the building manager in the hallway. I would always smile and say hello as if he’d never humiliated me in front of the doorman and Albert, the concierge…. To this day Albert asks me how my water is whenever he sees me.

A couple days later, my doorbell rings. The building manager is standing there with THREE maintenance guys. They wanted to come in and fix my bathtub leak. The look on my face clearly said, "Do you really need to bring in the Calvary to tighten a faucet?" I caught myself and welcomed them inside. All four of them were still working in my tiny bathroom when I had to leave to go downstairs and put clothes in the dryer.

That’s when I lost my laundry card. I blame the maintenance guys – for breaking my laundry routine.

Back at the apartment, the building manager told me he intended to have the water tested. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that. But he hasn’t been back since.

So whoever found my laundry card pocketed it. I had just put about 20 bucks on it. I certainly hope it was someone who needed it more than I did. I checked everywhere – rental office, building manager, and concierge, but nobody turned in a lost card. I even put a sign up in the laundry room asking whoever found it to please return it. Zip. Zilch. Nada. No laundry card. Time to buy a new one.

This week I bought my new card ($3.00). This time I plastered my name and apartment number all over it, in indelible ink. I was doing laundry with my new card when I bumped into the building manager who was also doing his laundry. We were chatting, and I asked him “By the way, when do the windows get cleaned?” The outside of my windows had gotten pretty dirty over the winter, and I just figured it was something that the building did in the spring. He told me they don’t. I gave him a bewildered look, and he explained that the Gershwin washes the windows when you move in, but the tenants are responsible after that.

“I live on the 9th floor,” I said.

“I know,” he smiled. Then we wished each other a great day, and I went home to put on hand lotion.