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The Chicago Way

When the temperatures drop below 50 degrees in New York, by law the landlords/building managers/slumlords of the city are supposed to make sure there's heat coming up.

This, apparently, is news to my building's manager.

When temperatures dropped to 32 on Saturday, the radiators in my apartment were colder than Katherine Heigl after a date at Cheesecake Factory.

The building super was MIA and he didn't respond to messages left on his mobile.

When the heat still wasn't on yesterday, I did a little investigative work and found a couple of contact numbers for the guy listed as building manager.

One of the numbers turned out to be his mother's apartment in Alphabet City.

When I told her the situation and that it was in his best interest to speak to me, I got him on the phone.

"How did you get my mother's phone number?"

"Worry less about how I got it than getting the heat turned on. Your mom's apartment is nice and warm, I bet. Alphabet City is nice this time of year, I know the area well."

".....how do you know where she lives?"

"How long until the heat is back up in my apartment?"

"I'll look into it right now."

All that and it still took until 2:30 today.

62 hours without heat.

I can't wait to find out what kind of discount on rent I'm getting.

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