Sludge alert, and a parking ticket

We knew we were getting a "smoked-in" apartment going into this. Professor Dearborn's scouting mission a few months back resulted in a photo of the bedroom complete with a carton of Marlboros on the floor.

After some haggling with the realtor, we made sure that new carpet and a full paint job would be a part of the deal. And they did a great job, because you can hardly tell ours used to be a smoking unit. Expectations were actually exceeded--the place smells like... fresh paint and new carpet... and only a little musty smokeyness in the coat closet.

For some strange reason, the realtor who sat down with us for the lease signing tried to convince us that there was never a smoker in the unit. Eileen and I just gave each other sideways looks when she said that. Apparently she was unaware that we had photographic evidence. And indeed, there is almost no evidence of a smoker. We might have never known, but for 1. Don's scouting mission... and 2. when Eileen decided to give the windows a thorough scrub down. Check out the before and after comparison of the tar build-up on the bedroom windows.


In Exhibit A, if you get your ear in close enough, you can almost hear the sludge oozing down the glass. And in Exhibit B, you can almost hear the crisp little "Ding!" of cleanliness. Good thing Eileen notices these things, because you can probably get second-hand smoke from this kind of tar cake.

On an unfortunate note, we got a $15 parking violation in front of the house today. Somehow, we didn't notice the "No parking Monday 7 - Noon" sign right outside our front door. Apparently, the parking spaces need to be plowed clear of snow every week at this time. These things simply don't happen in Washington. I guess the police officer didn't sympathize while he jotted down our Washington plate number, pried up the ice-encased windshield wiper, and placed the pink slip neatly under the blanket of snow on the windshield.

That just ain't right!