I got the call late one Sunday afternoon while sitting at work. “Babe, your toilet tub and shower are backed up.” What?
“It’s bad babe, and getting worse.” Okay, I thought, I’ll call my landlord.
“Hello, this is so and so and you’ve got my voicemail. Please leave me a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”
Damn. Answering machine. Message left.
