Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's . . . opening a window?

There's something about New York they never really tell you. When you live in an apartment building, you don't get to control your own heat. You can have a stable job, a family or even own the stupid building, but for some reason nobody thinks you're capable of choosing your own temperature. The gods that be (namely the second floor, where all the important decisions are made) decide just how warm/cool you get to be. Usually, they choose wrong and I end up keeping my window open half the night in the middle of winter.

A few nights ago was such a night. I had borne the insufferable heat all evening and found my apartment comparable to a sauna. I opened the window and resettled on my couch when I heard the sound of dripping water coming from outside. Well that's odd, I thought (in an English accent, I might add. Dr. Who and I have become mates in the last few days). I moved my screen and stuck my head out the window to try to pinpoint the noise.

It was dark, so I listened as hard as I could. It seemed to me that the dripping was coming from an apartment building right beside mine. I knew they had a mini water tower on the roof, and what else could it be? It's not like they have rivers in the middle of Manhattan. 

I was then faced with a dilemma-do I stay or do I go? By then it must have been 1:30 AM. Was it worth alarming someone for a problem I thought was happening? Or should I just stay in my apartment and hope nothing was wrong? My mind flew through a hundred possibilities. Perhaps the tower had somehow sprung a leak, and all the water was pooling out onto the roof. Pretty soon they would know because it would start dripping into the top floor's ceiling. Perhaps the people living there would be relocated for a while and it would be all my fault for not telling anyone!

Chill, Chels. Breathe. You don't know this city well yet. Perhaps that's a normal sound. What do you know? Do you really want to embarrass yourself by telling someone you heard the sound of water and you think that's a problem? Admit it, that sounds a little stupid. And who would you tell?

Well, I could tell one of my doormen. He wouldn't hate me, right? Okay, so maybe I'd get teased. What else is new? I'm leaving in a week anyway.

So I went down and told the doorman on duty. He thought it was a little amusing, but said he'd get someone to check it out. One of the other doormen came up with me and stuck his head out my living room window to check the location. "Yep," he confirmed. "That's the water tower." He left, promising to let me know if anything happened.

Two days passed before I saw him again. By then I figured that nothing had ever been wrong and had buried that memory in the corner of my mind where I keep things I'd rather not think about. So it took a minute to figure out what was going on when that doorman stopped me when I came home from work. "Hey Chelsea!" he said. "Remember that water tower you told me about? Turns out it did have a leak. I talked to some guys who work over there and they said they'd get it fixed."

Look at me, ya'll. Saving the world one water tower at a time.