Jeff and I were clearly in the way at the apartment, dodging out of the paths of lots of hurrying people. The water was coming in at about four or five gallons a minute, and everyone was racing to keep it under control. Outside the waterworks people stood in an uninterested circle, eyeing the hole in the ground like it was a rubix cube.

Jeff and I left things in the capable hands of Steve with the city, and confined ourselves to The Flying Saucer to pass the day. Steve gave me a call soon later, and went through a list of the things that he'd found for which he was going to compensate me. The list was impressive, and on top of that, he told me that all the building damage would be covered as well. I expected the latter, but the former was a surprise. I had already made peace with the thought of going on living with crappy water-damaged possessions, so his news was like opening my stocking on Christmas morning, and finding candy when I was certain I'd find coal.

Jeff and I were allowed three nights in a hotel, so after shopping around a bit, we found the cheapest night's stay to be had in the downtown area was at my favorite hotel: the Phillips. After a couple $2.75 pints with friends, we went our separate ways. I went to the hotel by way of Chipotle(saving the receipt), and Jeff went home to see if he could stand sleeping amid the torrent of noise. He could not.

He reported that the floors were dry, all the baseboards were ripped up, and there were twelve very large indestructible fans pointed at strategic angles and positions, making objects flop and flap around. All our possessions have been piled and stacked into noncritical areas. I went there for the afternoon today, waiting for someone to come, but they apparently want to wait at least a day to visit the place again.

So until that happens, the apartment is pretty much uninhabitable, and life is difficult to get on with.