Beam Me Up, Scotty…

larrydarryldarrylOne has a crinkly beard that grows half-way down his chest. I’m not sure how he manages to keep hammers and such from becoming entangled. Perhaps that’s where he stores his tools?

One wears suspenders, which I find odd; he looks to be all of 20 years old, and I’ve never seen anyone wear suspenders with industrial workwear before today. Then again, I’ve never claimed to be a fashionista.

The third is the only one who speaks. Loudly. It’s like Larry, Darryl and Darryl, without the flannel.


When I first moved into this building, I screamed every time a truck went by, because the whole building shakes. Like, really shakes. Enough to make windows rattle, pictures skew on the walls, computer cables jiggle out of their ports, and realtors powerless to impress clients with the “positive” features. Sometimes things on shelves shimmy just close enough to the edges to sit wobbling, unnoticed, until I walk under them later. It’s an exciting place to live.

I grew accustomed to the trucks, eventually, and I automatically push all the cables true before I boot up in the morning, now. And I’m no longer afraid of earthquakes. California, here I come.

But, Roofers! Roofers have tools that make truck drivers jealous of the power [INSERT “MANLY TOOL-TIME TIM” GRUNTING HERE]. There’s a guy up a ladder cutting a hole through what seems to be six layers of the laundry room ceiling right now. I think it’s Darryl #1, but I can’t be sure because he is now nearly waist-deep through most of those layers. I suppose I’ll know it was him if his beard is noticeably shorter later.

The ladder is tall enough to scrape the ceiling – I’m not sure how they got it up the stairs and through two short doorways (not to mention around two corners), but it took all three of them. I wish I could post pics, but there is no room in there for me. And the floor is jiggling enough that I’m nervous to walk around; so this is what it’s like to literally “walk on air”.

Anyway… whatever saw-thingy Darryl is using, it puts transports to shame. I’ve finally got the answer to what would happen to the building if trucks were to go by in a steady stream instead of just two or three in a row. The shake turns to a “thrum” – like how your jaw thrums when the hygienist uses the cleaner-thingy on you – only the cleaner-thingy would be the size of a Volkswagon, and it’s Gulliver getting his teeth cleaned.

The longer Darryl saws, the stronger the thrum is getting. This is what my cell-phone feels when I turn the vibrate-alert on, I’m certain. The whole building feels like it’s about to spout fire at the base and launch upward. I can’t wait to find out what happens next. Hopefully, it won’t be me and my chair hitting pavement.


UPDATE: 12:36 PM – What Happens Next…


Cats shriek in terror. Continuously.


Les considers abandoning building for the nearest bar, Roofers be damned. Let them climb in from the hole in the laundry room ceiling. I think I heard bricks falling on Cathcart Street, I swear.

UPDATE: 5:08 PM – What’s Happening Now…


I thought, a couple of hours ago, that they had gone home. Apparently they just wore out the first car they were dropping, and left to get another. It feels like a much bigger car.

Not-So-Random Song for the Day: “Space Oddity” – David Bowie