The tap in my bathroom sink is leaking. Nothing major, just Chinese water torture. Plink… plink… plink… Something needed to be done.
I told my co-T, and asked if someone could call my landlord. She called the office to ask for his phone number. They called back a few minutes later.
“They said you have a new landlord!” my co-T announced.
“Yes, he bought the building in August.”
“Oh. Well, they don’t know the new landlord’s number. Please wait.”
They didn’t know they building had changed hands? To whom had they been paying the rent?
It took a few days to sort things out but this afternoon, my co-T informed me my landlady would be stopping by that evening to check out the tap situation.
A few minutes after I got home, my doorbell rang. An older woman stood there, smiling. She seemed startled to see me. I assumed it was my height, and invited her in. Again, she seemed startled but she came in. I showed her my leaky taps. She said something in Korean, I replied “thank you!”, and bowed politely. She said something else in Korean, shook her head, grinned and left.
I sure hope she was the landlady.