"Do you have any tools?"

I'm a tenant in a building that's recently under new ownership. The old owner was a gentle old man named Barry, who had owned the building for over forty years. After he sold the building, I received a letter listing "THE RULES" from the new owner's management company, which signs their letters, "THE MANAGEMENT COMPANY."

Anyway, this morning, I awoke to the pitter-patter of a leaky bathroom ceiling. This was my first occasion to contact the mysterious management company, who, living up to their name, answer the phone, "Management Company." The conversation went like this:

M.C.: Management Company.
Me: Hi, this is Cameron. I'm a tenant in your building at [address]. There seems to be a leak in my bathroom ceiling.
M.C.: Is this an emergency?
Me: Well, it's a leak in my bathroom ceiling.
M.C.: Okay, please only call this number on weekends in the future if it's an emergency. Thanks for calling.
Me: Sorry, with whom am I speaking?
M.C.: The management company.
Me: Alright. You're going to send someone to look at it though, right?
M.C.: Okay.
Me: Don't you want to know my apartment number?
M.C.: Sure, what is it?
Me: It's apartment 101.
M.C.: Thank you.
Me: Incidentally, you of course have my permission to send a plumber into the apartment.

Later I get a knock at the door. The paint-stained overalls tell me it's clearly a handyman. I introduce myself (his name’s Diego) and show him the ceiling. Diego then asks me, "So, do you have any tools?"

I get my toolbox. He takes a hammer and, before I can get a word in, starts pounding the ceiling, causing a shower of damp drywall and water. I go and grab a tarp and together we cleverly lay the tarp over the mess. By about twenty minutes later, he has succeeded in removing the entire ceiling. He says, "there's some kind of leak in the plumbing."

Unfortunately, it turns out "some kind of leak in the plumbing" is not his particular specialty, so he instructs me that I should call a plumber and leaves. I instead call the management company (and only then realize that Diego left with my hammer).

M.C.: Management Company.
Me: It's Cameron again, leaky ceiling guy.
M.C.: We’ve already sent someone.
Me: Yes I know, he arrived and removed the ceiling.
M.C.: Okay.
Me: Can you send a plumber?
M.C.: He didn’t fix it?
Me: No, he wants me to call a plumber.
M.C.: Don’t call a plumber. We’ll send someone. Thank you for calling.
Me: One more thing – could you see about getting my hammer back from Diego?
M.C.: Why does he have it?
Me: He borrowed it from me.
M.C.: Okay.

I can’t help but think how this would’ve gone down had Barry still owned the building. He’d arrive with his dog, a wise-looking little Basset Hound, which he’d let play in the front yard while he came in to inspect the problem. He’d set up a ladder, climb up, and eye the ceiling carefully, all the while telling some story about Hollywood in the 1940’s. The phone call to his plumber would begin with chitchat about the wife and kids. When it was all said and done, I’d still have my hammer. I always loved that hammer. Maybe it's time to move.