A less good day
(Or: A Lyin', Thievin' No-Good Slimebucket of a Landlord and Friend)

A far less good day, I would say.

I blame the cold coffee. Instead of getting a piping hot cup, I drank my dad's leftovers from yesterday. Tasted fine, but I should have known. No good can come from a day that starts with cooled down coffee.

While cleaning the bathroom, we discovered that the sink leaks like a motherf***er. The landlord, who is a friend of my dad from grad school, had said he would fix it all, but obviously didn't. Not to mention the shower that's missing a part, so that the shower part doesn't work.

That was bad enough. I noticed too that black mold was growing on the walls near the leaky sink, as well as near the toilet, which further unsettled me. But the worst was yet to come. We found out from the upstairs neighbor that:

(1) She's essentially being evicted because of my dad's arrangement with the landlord. Not my dad's fault at all -- it's the landlord, who told her that relatives were moving in until they could find a place.
(2) Remarkably good-natured about it, she told us that the basement tenant had left about a year ago because of serious mold problems that were causing her and her young daughter respiratory problems. Landlord had, in turn, ignored her, given in when she called the city, then fought her in court when she sued him.
(3) Upstairs Neighbor also said she had had some rewiring done, and the journeyman electrician suggested she always keep a fire extinguisher handy, because the wiring was a mess and a fire hazard.
(4) She showed us the back patio, which because of an easily blocked drain, tends to fill with water during the rainy season up to six inches, right up against the side of the house.
(5) She also showed us the pine tree in the back that was becoming so choked with ivy that it was only a matter of time until it would die and probably topple. Some of those ivy branches looked like tree branches, they were so thick.
(6) And she showed us a retaining wall that was disintegrating, so that it was also only a matter of time until the dirt above would win, and spill into the back (most likely in a mudslide, I wager).

"I know he's a family friend," she said, not unkindly, "but I'd watch out if I were you."

ARGH. I was feeling okay about the whole thing -- at times annoyed, at times feeling rather proud of myself for doing this flip-the-house kind of thing (I used a power drill today, which always makes me happy). I was even thinking today that most home improvement projects are really not that hard -- you study how to do it and then you do it.

But mold? Faulty wiring? Threatening trees? Broken retaining walls? These things are beyond the average homeowner. They are beyond me. They required experts and lots of money.

Money would make this house a marvel, truly a million dollar home. It's got a view of the Bay. I saw a deer and 2 fawns walk by the house, right on the street, this afternoon. It seems like a pleasant neighborhood. And maybe, as my dad suggested, lack of money is why Landlord did this -- lie to my dad about the habitability of the place, lie to my dad about the repair work he would do, lie to his tenant about the reason he needed the place. But ... no. There are just some things you should not do.

So now what?

To add insult to injury, the VW guy I took the Jetta to this morning gave me his diagnosis, and it wasn't good. The 1st, 2nd and 3rd gears have to be replaced, requiring in essence a rebuilding of the transmission. His estimate? $1200 for parts and labor for the gears. There might be other problems he can't know about until he takes the transmission out.

My question is, how the hell do you figure out who to trust? The first transmission guy said it was worn pistons, which I later found out through talking with Scientist (yes, he's still in the picture -- fun story to follow) aren't even in the transmission, they're part of the engine. He would have charged between $2500 and $3800 to replace the pistons and take apart the transmission to find out what was wrong. This second guy, a VW specialist, says it's the gears, and his estimate is half of the first guy's.

I'm more inclined to believe the second guy, in part because he's gotten some very good reviews online, but how can you tell? Should I do what my Auto Repair for Dummies book recommends and take Elizabeth II to a third mechanic?

Christ.

Aaaaaand, to top it all off, Scientist called today. I don't know what's up with us -- we had a pretty good run during the pre-bar period, when he was really kind of sweet, even suggesting that we could spend more time together if he helped me study. He drove me to the airport when I was going to Albany, and then again when I flew here last week. He was away in CA while I was taking the bar, so I saw him briefly before I left, and ... I just don't know.

I've been telling him about my car woes, though, and he surprised me by knowing quite a bit about cars -- more than the average guy, I think. Anyway, he offered to call a friend of his in the Bay Area who knows a lot about cars, so that I could talk to him, and he called me today with the contact info. That was nice of him.

So the funny part: I call the friend, who is funny and nice, albeit not very helpful, and the friend asks me how I met Scientist. Match.com, I say. Oh! is the reply. So you've dated in the past or are dating now...

"Yeah," I answered, somewhat nonplussed, "uh, I don't know really what we are."

Oh, so you've just started dating, and you've had your coffee date and now Scientist wants to make sure you get back to Crimson City safely so you can have coffee again.

"Er, well, actually, we've been dating for a couple months."

Oh! I'm just out of the loop, I haven't talked to Scientist for months. So what's going on with you guys?

"Um, shouldn't you ask Scientist that?"

Oh, you know Scientist. He just blushes and kind of giggles. We used to work together, and he was the only single guy in the lab, so all us married guys would live vicariously through his stories.

"Yeah, I can kind of see that. Well, I don't know if I'll be in Crimson City coming this fall, so I don't know where we stand. But, uh, hey, thanks for the car advice, I appreciate it --"

No problem. You have my email address too, right? Let me know if anything comes up.

"Sure, sure. I'll let you know all the gossip too. Okay, byeee!"

Now that I write that, it kind of makes the friend sound pushy and inappropriate. But it didn't really have that timbre. He was funny and kind of charmingly obsessed about Scientist's love life. I was bemused.

It only occurred to me afterwards that this was the first time I had ever talked to one of Scientist's friends. It also occurred to me afterwards that Scientist must have told his friend that I was a friend.

Sigh. A tripartite of blueness today. Cold coffee'll do that to you.