Through my life my close friend and ally in the sometimes serious and sometimes mischief passage of our joint existence has featured in a number of incidents that somehow become known as the Gazza Curse, I will leave the reader to determine whether this is one of them. Anyway, its Gazzas story so I will let him tell it in his own words. – The Chinwagger.
Recently, I noted an odor in our master bedroom that had the distinct smell of damp carpet. Management instructed me to look into the problem. First, I noted and concluded that the odor was coming from a matt we recently put down in front of sliding door areas to protect the said carpet. “That’s what you get for buying cheap,” I informed management. Rolled up and placed matt away in the garage. Thinking we can sell it to another sucker.
Following morning, management mentioned the smell still seemed to be there. Mmmm. On closer inspection, I noticed that the carpet in front of the sliding door had deteriorated. That’s it, I thought. The carpet is rotting, hence the smell. Pondering this, I determined this time I’d better do the job properly. Properly involved me moving the bedroom furniture to facilitate lifting the carpet. With the carpet up, I could check if we had a water leak. Lifting several meters of carpet and underfelt, I found the floor was bone dry. bugger, I replaced the carpet, but that nasty smell still prevailed. It was time for deep reflection, right I thought. After my deep thought, I will replace the carpet with a patch in front of the sliding door.
Now comes the challenger, where was I to find a matching piece of carpet? Got it. In one of those rare moments, similar to the Greek mathematician Archimedes, I had a eureka flash. Unlike Archimedes, I didn’t run naked down the street. Well, not then, that’s another story. Good lord my neighbours have enough on their minds without that to deal with. I visualised a piece of carpet in the wardrobe which would fit the dilapidated piece and match the colour perfectly. I thought I can cut the wardrobe piece out and with accurate measuring cut the damaged carpet out and switch them. I will get a perfect match at the door and if I put the damaged bit back in the wardrobe, we will not notice it. The best bit is it will cost me and Wally the wallet nothing but a roll of joining tape to affect this replacement patch. Perfect….well not quite. Same pattern, but somewhat darker. Thinks….that’s because it hasn’t seen the light of day. That’s alright, I can fix that by covering the patch with another mat, say the one I just put in the garage. I was hoping management would not notice. I slept well that night knowing I had completed a job well done.
But wait, the next morning the odor is still present. What da f… My god, there must be a major leak under house and we are living on top of a lake. Right, I need to fix this. I removed the dryer in the garage to access a man hole to look under the house. I took in high-powered lighting, got down on my belly, and proceeded crawling under the house. Dangerous work, especially expecting a deluge of water at any time. Nope, alas, the underneath of our house is as dry as a bone. So dry even the spiders have died through lack of moister. I’m now thinking the worst. Water must enter through the wall and it’s the smell of rotting timber.
I changed my tack, climbing up into the ceiling space and crawling around in the roof cavity. Nothing; I inspect the outside wall, windows, and bricks. Still nothing. What the hell is going on? In complete dejection and exhaustion I give up and spend my afternoon time on the couch in the living room drowning my sorrows with wine? Wait…I can even smell the odor in here. Oh, no… all the carpet is rotting throughout the house. By now fueled by alcohol with my mind is working overtime with thoughts of complete floor covering replacement costs going into thousands of dollars. I go outside to pace; I think better when pacing. While walking around in circles trying to figure it out, I smell that stink again; it seems to be outside. Is it a pipe or effluent problem??? And the odor is making its way into the house. Ill ring council first thing in the morning. Ah, satisfactorily diagnosed.
Back on the couch, more wine and the fire going, it’s nice and warm. I am feeling quite content. I almost forget the scourge of the odor. I kick off my Ugg boots slippers. That’s odd, that vile smell is back, the odor seems quite strong, stronger than ever. I pick up my woolly Ugg boots slippers. Oh, shit! They stink! They were the culprit all along. How the hell am I going to tell management? I very quietly use some deodorizer on the slippers to make sure I’ve eradicated the stench right at the source. Sure enough, we no longer have a carpet odor problem. I have not told management yet; I need to bask in the glory of curing the vile smell, and not suffer the ridicule of being the conveyor of it.