The World According to Tiff Sniff

Meandering ponderings and wonderings on the state of things.

Janus and the Ceiling

FYI, Harding has rescinded its invitation to Ann Coulter, thank goodness. That's all I can say about it.


So - back to the fun London stories.

One afternoon, my roommate Taleen was napping in her room while I read in mine. All of a sudden, she started screaming like I have never heard screaming before. I ran back to her room, sure that the water heater (in her closet) had exploded, or someone had broken in and was murdering her, or something equally horrific.

When I opened her door, I nearly hit her with it. She had jumped from her bed several feet across the room. A large chunk of the ceiling, rotted around the edges, was lying on the foot of her bed. Dust was floating in the air and settling onto everything. We looked up to see a huge hole opening up to the flat above ours, and several Polish construction workers looking down at us. From somewhere beyond them, a disembodied voice said, "Sorry."

It was hilarious, once we had calmed down enough to appreciate the humor. They got the floor/ceiling fixed rapidly, and made a fuller apology in person a little later. But I will never forget Janus and his supervisees peering in, looking just as horrified to see us as we were to see them. Ah, good times.

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