Do the fork in the garbage disposal

Apparently it's broken garbage disposal week here at my Krabby Land apartment complex, at least according to Mr. Maintenance Man.

Saturday night I was cleaning up my dinner when my disposal sputtered and then just stopped all together. I hit the reset button on the bottom of the disposal and tried again. Nothing. I waited an hour and tried again. Still no. So I shot management an email, explaining that my garbage disposal needed a little repair.

Today I was blessed with a visit from my favorite maintenance man (well, the most amusing maintenance man I've ever had).

The feathered ones' cage has been sitting on the floor since I got home from class. When Mr. Maintenance knocked on the door, both fluttered in opposite directions. Frack hid in the corner under the window & Frieda beelined for the bathroom. Thus ensued 5 minutes of running around trying to corral the feathered ones back into the cage. From outside my door I heard: "Are you decent?!" Yes, Mr. Maintenance I am. I just can't manage to get my birds back into their cage. I answered with a "yes, I'm just trying to get the birds back into their cage." He muttered something that I couldn't quite understand.

Finally with the feathered ones corralled successfully, I let him in. Thus began a litany of information that I could have lived without knowing, such as how often Mr. Maintenance pulls things out of garbage disposals (90-100 times per year) and the nature of other garbage disposal related claims he dealt with today (both had metal spoons in their disposal, one would have to replace the disposal at their own expense because the metal had damaged the disposal beyond repair).

After fishing around in the disposal a little bit, he came up with a rather rotted half a lemon that was barely recognizable as a lemon. Thus began another litany of instructions on cutting lemons into quarters prior to grinding. I said "I'll just throw them away." He said, no no, grind them because that's what the grinder's there for. I thought that throwing them away would be easier. Thankfully my disposal was not damaged. Had it been damaged, I learned that they would have paid since food is considered to be a normal thing to be in a garbage disposal (duh). Dropped a metal spoon down your disposal? Honey, that's your problem and your dime. Dropped a lemon down your garbage disposal? That's the apartment's problem & you get off scot free.

I then made the mistake of stating that I'd dropped metal down the disposal before on accident (my metal tea ball fell down it once without my realizing it until after I turned it on) & that I'd had to fish it out. Then I got a lecture on how I could lose my hand because the disposals are not designed to shut off automatically if you stick your hand in them. I made a mental note to find out if a garbage disposal with such a function exists & install one the next chance I have to pick my own disposal. I have this irrational fear of people losing fingers to garbage disposals. It's prompted both parents to fake losing limbs while using the disposal just to freak me out.

It works every time.