Hello Everybody! I hope you're all well. I have a few funny stories to share.
It is a gloomy day in Dublin today. I have already spent a good portion of the day inside due to the continuation of the mysterious wet floor saga in the apartment. We woke up this morning to find the floor in the kitchen soaking wet. Each time I step on a floor board more dirty water rises up from below (can't be good I know.) It turns out that the washing machine is leaking badly now...another turn of events that led the building janitor, Billy, to tell me today
"Well Jaysus, yuhv had nuthin buht bad luck in this apAHRTment." Billy was here for quite a while today...tinkering around in the kitchen behind the washing machine...occasionally grunting and saying things like "ahhhh, Fuck it!" During the entire time he was here, I don't think he established much more than Luis had about the situation although he gave me frequent updates about what he found out back there involving valves. He mopped the floor leaving bits of mop debris and grime, damp and clinging to various spots around the floor and a towel left soaking in the washing machine which I cannot currently dry, that he used to "test the machine out." Still Billy is the kind of person you can't help but like a little. We often see him mopping the stairs or hosing down the front walk laughing as he pretends he's gonna spray passers by. His blue eyes sparkle with mischief and his bald head is oddly elegant in back as if a baker had inlaid the quilting pattern for a white wedding cake on the back of his neck but had forgotten to include the little pearls that go in the center of each criss-cross.
A few days ago he came by, bald head gleaming, splotch of blue/green paint front and center on his forehead, to investigate the first appearance of mystery water that showed up between the hallway floorboards. While he was on the phone to Sinead, our landlady, we overheard him say
"Now listen, Sinead, yuh've got ta get a plumber in here.".....pause..."Italian, is he?"... (said with an impossibly wide smile)..."Well shouldn't he be workin in a chipper?" (Apparently Italians are known for serving fish and chips here.)
I had the chance, or rather didn't have much of a choice of chatting with Billy longer than usual today while he was in the apartment. He asked me a variety of questions...Things like what I do for a profession. When I told him I was an opera singer he asked me lots of questions about that, such as whether I sing in the same range as Celine Dion or if I'd heard of Andrea Bocelli. I decided to show him a bit of the youtube video of me singing the Doll Song from the recital in Montreal last fall. We can all breathe a sigh of relief now because Billy has figured out my career and life for me and he didn't even charge me a cent! He didn't even need to be asked. After he heard the video Billy looked at me
"Well what-r-ya doin' sittin' around here for? You've gotta get on one a these television shows. Time is slippin' away."
I handled the conversation as best I could, explaining plans for auditions and a little bit of the complications and realities of life.
"I don't think you understand what I'm saying. With a voice like that, you could go on the X Factor and blow the fuckin' roof off!"
His opinion of voice teachers is that they're all using the students for their reputations and that
"Nobody wants to kill the goose that lays the fuckin' golden eggs! They'll always find somethin' wrong with you and they'll charge ya an arm an' a leg for it too!" (He has a point there.) He nodded in agreement when I told him tales of New York City teachers charging $150 to $200 an hour for a lesson, and having credit card machines to swipe students cards right in their studio. He was sure that was true.
