There used to be a stain on my ceiling, caused by the tacit cooperation

File: Hendrix.jpg (41KB, 768x432px) Image search: [Google]

41KB, 768x432px

There used to be a stain on my ceiling, caused by the tacit cooperation of a neglectful property manager and the east-coast rain. From the chair on which I sit to use my computer, as I observed this stain when occasionally glancing upward, it appeared almost as a face. One ‘eye’ was distorted, as if winking, and the ‘hair’ and ‘neck’ were a little scraggly, but the overall effect was unmistakably that of a carefree man with unkempt hair winking down upon me.

For lack of a better picture, I have attached an image of Jimi Hendrix to this post. Please imagine that the stain which I have described resembled a smiling, winking Jimi Hendrix who had decided to attempt a pompadour, but had given up halfway through. The stain was a little larger than life-size.

I have said that this stain used to be on my ceiling. Five days ago, a painter (or team of painters) admitted himself or herself (or themselves) to the apartment in which I reside (completely unannounced to me), ostensibly to repair a separate, unrelated piece of water damage which I had reported some weeks prior. This intrusion occurred while I was away, and as I have written, I had no advance warning of such a thing.

The painter (or painters) brought his or her (or their) primary assignment to a barely tolerable conclusion: it will last for at least another month before any more of the ceiling falls in around me as I make dinner. However, the painter (or painters) took it upon himself or herself (or themselves) to examine the rest of the apartment upon which I reside, and they found, undoubtedly, the stain that resembled Jimi Hendrix.

The remainder of the events I cannot describe, as I was not present for them, but suffice it to say that because of this unannounced intruder (or these unannounced intruders), there is no longer a stain on my ceiling. This concludes my narrative.