When I got back home this evening, my landlord was leaning against the corridor talking to our neighbor who looked positively steamed in the bathing suit. The conversation, or 'late night face-to-face heart-to-heart neighborhood meeting about problems in the neighborhood' was centred around the unusually hot corridor. There is no aeration between the two ends of the corridor and for some reason, probably overheated steamer and everyone's cooking, the ten metre something passage feels like Sahara.
I asked tentatively, out of politeness, 'Something wrong?', and was reduced to standing and listening to repetitive complaints which we all knew too well could be summed up concisely as 'It's bloody hot!Do something about it!'. Then suddenly, a profound look surfaced upon my landlord's face.(By the way, she was holding a novel in one hand.) She said 'I should call Health Canada and let them inspect this place. This's no place to live. There'll be serious health hazards we should be aware of.'Ohohoho, the wonderful democratic society that boasts civil rights and welfare and everyone knows they hold da POWER! While the simple solution is to open the door partitions, with a stopper. Health Canada! Workers Union! You feed on tax and you're cheaper than a call!Sure it's hard to manage people who think they know the law too well.
She will call. Health Canada will be here experiencing tropical air. There'll be friendly conversation with the manager who has a lot to explain, followed by paper work and filing to superiors. And by the time they come up with a solution, it'll be late winter when hot corridor is no longer a problem.
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