My mother posed a question to me not long ago. It was this: "At whose expense will your landlord amuse himself when you're gone?" Now this came after a rather eventful, eh, event. You see I had done laundry on this fateful Saturday, which I do on random occasions when I realize that I'm running out of clothes. Well, on this particular day my washing machine (an ancient German thing) was filled with heavy towels. When wet, these towels are heavy--so heavy that my washing machine had a serious case of indigestion.
.
Now, I don't know about you, but when my stomach's upset, I want to lie down. Not so with my washing machine. He (it's a he) started shaking. Actually, it was more like convulsing. And groaning--he has the most terrible groans when his stomach's upset. I rather thought that he was going to explode, but he didn't. He simply didn't stay in one place.
Earlier, I had asked my landlord to replace a light in my bathroom about half an hour before I had to leave for worship practice. Yes, I know how to change a light bulb. Just not this lightbulb. Nor did I have any idea where to buy the kind of lightbulb that is in my bathroom. Besides, I asked in Albanian (go me!), so I should get points for multi-lingual communication, right? I was about to leave for worship when I ran to grab something from the bathroom. Only one problem, the door refused to open. My roommate wasn't home, why on earth was it closed? After a moment, I realized--"Holy crap, the washing machine is in front of the door." His tummy was apparently very upset.
"Well," I thought, "I don't have time to deal with this now. I have to go!" Not gonna lie, in the back of my mind I thought, "And Ramiz will probably come up and discover the problem and fix it for me." Terrible, right? That's exactly what happened. In the middle of worship practice, Ramiz burst into the room a blend of frantic and confused "Do you realize what has happened in your bathroom? How did that happen?" And then he gave me the look. Not the "how can I possibly put up with your mishaps" look, but an incredulous "how do you get into these mishaps?" look.
And that, my friend, is a question I'm still trying to answer.
