Tuesday, August 28, 2012

We're Not in Manhattan Anymore... Part Two

This entry is a two-parter, so if you haven't read Part One yet, please do so. 

Walking into the house, my eyes were immediately assaulted by an overwhelming amount of tchotchkes. I was surrounded by an extensive collection of frilly things that only a certain kind of old lady could love, as well as enough plants and pillows to fill a jungle-themed housewares store. I felt as if I had walked into Dolores Umbridge's office in Harry Potter.
No joke, this would have been an improvement
TDee showed me around the house, indicating which rooms he wanted tested. In many, it was actually impossible to move more than a few feet (or inches!!) without knocking into something. Afterward I was left alone to do my thing. Let me describe the house room by room...

Mother's Room: A decrepit, blind dalmatian was lying on the bed. Normally I am a huge dog person, I love dogs and dogs love me. Even the dogs that "normally don't like anybody!" like me. No, not this time. This dog was satanic. It barked nonstop while I was in the mother's room. It was the only time in my life I was scared of a dog, thinking it might actually bite me. I was shocked that nobody came into the room to see what was going on. 
Maybe the dog was bitter it had to hang out in this creepy house all day?
Sun Room: Not only was the sun room jam packed with plants and pillows, it was home to three parrots. One of the parrots was so, SO scary. It kept yelling "helllllooo!" and "umbrella!" at me, in the most robotic, steely, frightening voice. I'm pretty sure a robot giant squid from outer space with a tentacle wrapped around my body, dragging me down to the pits of Hell would have a similar, but slightly less horrifying voice. I am still haunted. 

TDee told me that the parrots had originally been his. Apparently his first ex-wife couldn't stand the birds either and gave TDee an ultimatum--either the birds had to go or she would. TDee laughed during the retelling, "I should have kept the birds!". Me: "...uhhh...heh, heh...wow". 
I would take ten Gilbert Godfrieds before I'd be willing to go near those parrots again
The garage, the basement, & the upstairs bedroom: words cannot do justice to the these rooms. These, as well as several others, were brimming with "art". Here's a general idea of what was going on:
Upstairs Bedroom
Basement with an alien hanging by a noose as a fun accent piece
I'm sure all legitimate "art dealers" treat their "art" in such a manner. *SMH*

These pictures only represent the tip of the iceberg. I have a lot more on my computer, and could easily have taken even more during the inspection. I'm guessing the house held at least ~5,000 pieces of "art". It was just everywhere. 

Oh, and one added bonus picture! The basement bathroom:
Not sure why the toilet was removed, but they left a lovely hole in its place!
The worst part about this inspection? Hopefully you agree that normal people do NOT live like this, but the people who were home (which included mom, TDee, TDum, TDum's wifey and spawn, and then one or two other random people)? NOBODY SEEMED TO ACT LIKE THERE WAS ANYTHING STRANGE ABOUT THE HOUSE!!!!!!! HOW COULD YOU THINK THAT THIS SITUATION WAS OKAY?!?!

Despite the strong strain of lunacy that runs through my family, sometimes I am super thankful that my family is insane, in a good way!

Photo credits: Aladdin, Harry Potter

Street Spotting: Multitasking at its Best

Too busy to work out with all the other stuff on your to-do list? No more excuses, this man has found the solution--he jump rope-walks. The multitasking pro was seen jump roping while crossing Broadway on the Upper West Side. He then proceeded to jump rope-walk down the sidewalk. Unfortunately I was not quick enough with my iPhone to capture him in action, he had to make a pit stop at Zabars. Probably a good idea to stop, I don't know if the world is ready for jump rope-grocery shopping... 

Sunday, August 26, 2012

We're Not in Manhattan Anymore... Part One

Hi Friends, this is a long one so I'm splitting it up into two parts! For part two, click here!

Make fun of me all you want but let's get one thing clear. I do not drive. Yes, I have a driver's license. But no, to my boss's dismay, I refuse to drive for work. Here's why:
1. I have not driven since I moved to New York City which is over five years ago.
2. I never was a super confident driver to begin with. I have what you'd call an "anxious" personality and I get nervous when I'm not familiar with my surroundings.
3. Give me a break, driving in the tri-state area is a whole other animal than driving almost anywhere else in the US. It'd be scary enough to drive here with a companion for moral/emotional/directional support, but attempting it alone? No. Just no. As my dad likes to say, "There's only one rule to driving in NYC: point and go".
4. As any of my friends from high school can attest to, driving with me is always an...adventure. I guess there's always the adrenaline thrill of not knowing if you'll ever reach your destination, or even if you'll be alive by the end of the night. Any and all attempts at highway driving result in me getting lost, pulling off at some random ramp and parking somewhere, crying hysterically to my dad on the phone, and him directing me how to get home while he remains on the phone the entire time.*
5. Trust me, you do not want me sharing the road with you.
*Give me SOME credit, this was in the days before everybody had GPS. OKAY?!?
Dionne and Cher understand my struggle:
"Hey! You try driving in platforms!"
Because of this, I HATE going on the odd job that takes me outside of Manhattan/Brooklyn/Queens/The Bronx because it usually involves twelve transfers between various subways, trains, and buses and then I still have to make the client pick me up at the bus station. Never a good day.

On one particular occasion I was forced to go inspect the home of a 85+ year old woman in Long Island. This was at the start of my career as a mold inspector and I was nervous about traveling to the job. I didn't have any spare thoughts for the job itself...Who would have known that the traveling would be the most fun part of my day?

Back story: the large six-bedroom home was built by the lady's late husband. The pair had  two sons, now in their 40s, that are no longer living there (thank God!). As these things go,  the house had fallen into disrepair over the years and had experienced several leaks. I was hired by the older son, we'll call him Tweedledee, to inspect the ENTIRE home for mold because his mother was sick. The second son, Tweedledum, refers to himself as an African art dealer. 
Imagine these two, but up the creep factor and minimize the happiness level
Allegedly TDum's storage space for his "art" was being repaired, and he was temporarily storing his wooden African statues in his mother's home. I'm not trying to offend anyone here, I love the African section of the Metropolitan Museum of Art as much as the next person, but if you treat any sort of art like shit, it ceases being art and turns into shit. Period.

Fast forward three years and the "art" was still at the mother's house. It was easy to realize that the point of this investigation was to settle a dispute between TDee and TDum on whether or not the art needed to go...

Photo Credits: Alice in Wonderland, Clueless

A Brush With Fame

I spend a significant amount of my time performing air tests for the ultra wealthy. Most of the time I have no idea who lives in the apartment or what they do, but it's clear that they're a hot shot in some sort of industry. Every once in a while the "hot shot" happens to be in the entertainment industry. I performed an air test for a (minor) celebrity that may or may not have been in the following films:  
The Spy Who Shagged Me? Try, The Spy Who Stole My Heart With Those Dance Moves
No comment necessary--this one came pre-captioned!
Needless to say, I was a bit surprised when I knocked on the door to the apartment and found myself face-to-face with this actress. Also home? Her almost completely naked, highly attractive boyfriend. Tenant: 1 Mold Girl: 0. 

At one point in the inspection I needed a ladder so that I could inspect an area of the ceiling. The actress helped me get a ladder from her storage closet. While awkwardly maneuvering the contraption around, my arm accidentally grazed her boob. OMGGGG! I've touched a low-level celebrity's boob!!! hehehehehehehehe. That portion of my arm hasn't been washed since.

Oh and PS, I was walking around after a mold job last week and spotted Hoda (from such morning television programs as the Today Show's Kathie Lee &) hopping on the Hamptons Jitney. Yay for D-list celebrity sightings!
Holla at me Hoda!
Photo Credits: Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me, The Hangover, The Today Show: Kathie Lee and Hoda

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Alpaca Swag

Alpaca humor:
Alpaca #1: "Hey, wanna go on a picnic?"
Alpaca #2: "Sure, alpaca lunch!"
Any laughs? No? At least I thought it was funny...

My supervisor once received a tiny alpaca figurine as a souvenir from a friend who had vacationed in Peru. She wasn't exactly super excited by the gift--she didn't want the alpaca and gave it up for grabs. My judgmental colleagues could not appreciate the magnificence of this creature. Most made fun of the animal because, according to them, it has devil eyes.  Blasphemy. One of my work besties (I'll refer to her as Denile DaBoo) and I adopted the lonely creature. One person's devil eyes is another's BAMF eyes as I always say. The alpaca has been on many adventures and has seen various style transformations over the past few months. Currently she is rocking the waspy chic/cult leader look. Fancy necklace and a creepy, phallic hat. Perfect combo!
Don't mess
Now for your viewing pleasure, please enjoy the following alpaca photographs:
Who wouldn't want to come home to this stud every night?
Is it just me, or does this guy create an insatiable urge to hug something fluffy? WHY DON'T I HAVE ANY ALPACAS TO HUG??
hehe. drugs. hehe.
Photo credits: memegenerator.net, yetanotherbloomingblog.blogspot.com, Johann Dreo

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Send in the Clowns

Saw these charming glass sculptures at an apartment in Flushing. A true connoisseur of taste, the resident had also decorated her bedroom with a fairly large quantity of stuffed animals. 

Although our styles may differ, her bathroom had me blue, I mean green, I mean blue with envy. It featured a vintage under-the-sea motif and was (accidentally?) very kitschy-chic. The room was decked out entirely in blue including blue seashell wallpaper, blue floor tiles, and my favorite part, a matching blue toilet and sink. As someone who self-describes her style as "bored 1950s housewife", I was in my element. One day I too will have my own monochromatic pastel bathroom... once I'm finally a real bored housewife!
A girl can dream...

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Neighborhood Watch: Prospect Lefferts Gardens

Try saying that three times fast! Besides having an awkward name, the neighborhood of Prospect Lefferts Gardens is located in Brooklyn, near the southeast corner of Prospect Park. According to Wikipedia, the first settlers (you know, other than the Native Americans) were a Dutch family that arrived in 1660. Wow, fun fact! Thanks Mold Girl! You're welcome. In our modern times, the neighborhood is largely populated by people of Caribbean heritage. Not far from my job site was a local treasure, a Caribbean bake shop known as Allan's Bakery
Hey Allan's!
My colleague Porkchop and I obviously had to go in. You can't visit a new neighborhood without sampling the local bakery. Or at least I can't. My mother would slap me for even thinking about skipping such a crucial "learning" opportunity. I asked the guy at the counter for suggestions and ended up getting fried cod with sauteed onions, a coconut roll, a current roll, and a large slice of bread pudding. All of it was fabulous. And cost only $8.75. C'est incroyable! Porkchop  purchased the same buns and fish, as well as a beef patty and banana soda. Shockingly the soda was pretty good--made in Trinidad without high fructose corn syrup. That means it's healthy, right?
0% real banana. Just the way I like it!
I swear I didn't eat all of it in one sitting...just most of it. There's a difference! 
Moral of this story: If you are ever in the Prospect Lefferts Gardens neighborhood, you now know where to fulfill all of your baked goods needs. So go, otherwise my mother will slap you!

Street Spotting: Taste the Rainbow

Saw a man park this baby stroller, oh excuse me, dog stroller outside a shop in the Flatiron District. Let's pick apart this fashion do:
-First of all, it's a dog. In a stroller...still trying to wrap my brain around that one.
-Hair is dyed three different colors. Notice how this was artfully done to make the dog appear as though it has a Mohawk and is wearing eye makeup. 
-What is it sitting on? A 50 Shades of Pink frilly tutu?
-A sparkly gold throw pulls the whole look together nicely. 

If this was the dog, you can only imagine the owner. He was a real class act. His facial hair says it all, he sported a bushy, foot-long, grass-green beard. I'll leave it at that. The pair easily put to shame anything that even Lisa Frank could possibly imagine on an acid-fueled outing at the circus with the entire Care Bear family.
Apparently it is possible to out-rainbow Lisa Frank!
Photo credits: Lisa Frank

Monday, August 13, 2012

Road Trip to Nowhere

Often I'm given no more information than an address and apartment number when visiting a job site. I don't know the reason for the mold inspection, who will be present during the visit, or whether there's serious drah-mah between management and the residents. I recently inspected a large apartment in the Bronx. The apartment was originally two separate units that had been combined in a... co-op?.. condo??...something building (I still can't tell the difference between the two). 

I arrived at the address. No doorman, and no answer when I buzzed the apartment. Fortunately someone entered the building and I stealthily snuck in behind. I proceeded to  awkwardly creep around trying to find the super. Eventually I located him belting out Celine Dion while mopping the floor. He let me into the empty apartment which was occupied, although allegedly the tenants had temporarily moved out during the remediation process. The super informed me that only the kitchen required testing--a pipe connected to the dishwasher had burst. I was like, awesome! Easy-peasey! The super leaves me to get back to his work (aka "My Heart Will Go On") since I didn't need any help. I decided to call my mom on the phone, thinking I could waste a little extra time checking in with her as well as fooling around on Social Girl during the inspection (if you aren't familiar with this app, I highly suggest you familiarize yourself IMMEDIATELY!). Mid convo avec ma mère, I notice a man standing behind me.
Direct quote: "There could never be too much argyle in the world!"
This man was middle-aged, balding, chubby, and exuded an aura of general creepiness. He identified himself as, let's say... Clark Crabman. He prefaced his name with some long-winded BS sounding job title, that did not register in my brain. He claimed to represent the apartment's residents. Uhh, what? I have no idea what that means. To this day, I still have absolutely no idea of his purpose, or how he was involved with the apartment. In the aftermath of the investigation, my fellow colleagues and I came to the conclusion that we wouldn't exactly call him the most upright of "business" men. 
Bald? Check. Chubby? Check. Kinda creepy? Check-times-infinity-no-comebacks.
Anywho, Mr. Crabman followed me around the entire time at a distance that can only be described as inside-my-personal-bubble. He also kept calling me "Ma'am". Let me make one thing clear, it is ALWAYS offensive to call a woman, especially me, "ma'am" OR "miss". Both words send shivers down my back. The former = old lady, the latter = young girl. I am a WOMAN. If you must use one of those sort of phrases, I'll accept  "mademoiselle" (because everything said in French sounds fancy) or, even better, how about you ask me to repeat my name and use that?! 
Ooh la la!
Feminist aside over, continuing on... About every 3.76 seconds, he would call me to come over to an area in which he had found "mold". He made me take a picture of every, little spec of whatever. I'm like dude, I'm going to report that there was water damage on this wall. I'm not going to say there was water damage in the top left corner, bottom right corner, middle, above the granite counter top, etc. etc. etc. Despite this, he continued to insist that I take pictures of all the "damage". And instead of testing only one room as planned, he had me test EIGHT rooms. I can't even tell you how much bending up-and-down and crawling all over the place with a moisture meter that entails. Ugh. All work and no play makes me a dull mold girl. 
Heeerrreeeeee's Moldy!
To add insult to injury, the place was absolutely disgusting. It looked like the family had gotten out of there in a HURRY. Food was still lying around. Dirty towels remained in the bathrooms. Random belongings cluttered the entire apartment. The icing on the cake was the den. One could argue that the residents are creative? Resourceful? Call it whatever, but I think everyone can agree the den was a tad unusual...
Why yes, that is a van car seat used as a couch! I call it post-, post-modern trailer trash chic!
Butter my butt and call me a biscuit. Here I was thinking that only the cast of Aaahh! Real Monsters used discarded junk as furniture, but I can admit when I'm wrong!
Ickis is so on trend!
Photo Credits: Social Girl, Nickelodeon, Spongebob Sqaurepants, Aaahh! Real Monsters, The Shining, http://stylinggame.blogspot.com

Why Don't You Stay A While Crocodile?

Nothing says "Let's get this party started!" quite like an alligator head covered in Mardi Gras beads can.
Not even this dog. Sorry, better luck next time Mr. Sprinkles. 
Photo credits: dog-birthday-parties.com

Friday, August 10, 2012

Money Can't Buy You Taste

What do you give the kid who has everything? Apparently an oil painting! This exceptional piece of artwork was spotted in the child's bedroom of a rather extravagant apartment located in Sutton Place.

A Dog's Life

A new business is about to open near my office. I took a picture. Notice the chic, post-modern exterior with the fancy wood paneling, few windows which seem to say "we're exclusive!", and classy stainless steel metal lettering. You may ask yourself, what is this? A high end Japanese restaurant? An new spa? A trendy hotel?

If you guessed a hotel, you are partially right. The business is a hotel. A dog hotel. Dogs only. No people.

Obviously I had to immediately Google the company. The hotel offers three levels of suites for luxury boarding, all of which include flat screen TVs. The "uber suite" includes "modern decor" and a queen sized bed. I don't even sleep in a queen sized bed! Here are some additional ammenities and services mentioned on the website:
Massage: Indulge your loved companion in a relaxing and rejuvenating full body massage
D-Wrap: A cleansing, detoxifying thermal wrap that returns your dogs body and fur to virtually a clean and healthy slate.
Classic Pawdicure:  Indulge in your favorite traditional pawdicure including a paw soak, massage, Nail trimming, buffed or polished to perfection. 
Custom doggie treadmills and personal training for dogs who need a little extra exercise.
Doesn't simply petting a dog count as a massage? Wish I could afford a pawdicure, personal trainer, or a D-wrap (whatever that is)!
I'm better than you
And the icing on the cake:
Too busy to drop your loved one off? The D-Chauffeur Service would be happy to pick up your dog from your home or office... We offer an array of vehicle choices from our standard D Pet Hotels pick-up to more luxurious options like a beautiful Southern California drive in a Ferrari 458, Lamborghini Gallardo, Bentley, Porsche or Rolls Royce.
With a FUR-rari and matching outfit like this, this dog must get all the bitchez!
I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry that a hotel like this can exist, especially in this economy. How about I compromise with some slightly disturbing hysterical laughter?
Photo credits: Someecards, Brattypets.com

Thursday, August 9, 2012


Spotted this beaut parked outside my office one night after work. I don't know why it exists, but I'm so glad that it does.

Two Guys, a Girl, and a Mold Problem

Yesterday I performed an inspection for a lovely couple on the Upper East Side. The couple was a pair of gay men roughly around 75 years old. Unfortunately I had to sit through the usual hour and a half of them talking about all their health problems and water damage and ways in which the building management has screwed them over. Nevertheless, the couple was really cool. They were avid travelers and had a lot of stories of adventures abroad. One of them looked pretty familiar...Was he an actor?? They were also fellow Jews so we had fun talking about Israel. At the end of the inspection, they profusely complimented my mad mold skills and fabulous charm (who wouldn't?). They even told me that they'd love to have me come over again, this time, you know, socially. If that doesn't sound like a fun-filled hang out sesh, I don't know what does.
Does this make me the rubber ducky?
Photo credits: Sesame Street

Feelin' Hot, Hot, Hot

Anyone who's ever been in an older building in NYC knows one thing: you will NEVER be cold. We're talking a year-round temperature of 80-85 degrees. You think I'm joking. I'm not. The heating systems in these older buildings have only two settings--on and off. During the cooler months when the heat is on, the heat is seriously on. I've learned to never wear anything heavier than a long sleeve shirt in the winter. Summer is not much better. Forget central air, A/C in old buildings is all about the window units.
Is heavy panting sexy?
Earlier this spring I was inspired to buy some tulips at the farmer's market. They bloomed immediately due to my office's boiling temperature, but still looked gorgeous. I think displaying them proudly in the office blender really classed the joint up. N'est pas?
Vases are for elitists
Photo credits: dogidea.com

Splish Splash

Although most of my time is spent fighting the good fight against mold and its plans for world  sheetrock domination, every once in a while my office receives a strange request for a more unusual sort of job. These inquiries are often more than a little vague, with even the client unclear as to what sort of testing they need or "need". Guess who is assigned to figure this out, not to mention find the appropriate equipment, learn how to use it (and act like I've done it a million times), and then put together a report using facts found off Google. If you guessed me, you guessed right! 
Way to go! You is smart!
A recent random request went a little something like this, "Ummm, there's some stuff growing on the bottom of our pool...". A colleague thought I should refuse to do the job, "You don't have any proper training in this. What if you contract some sort of disease?!?". I will admit, he made an excellent point. Although for those of you unfamiliar with NYC summers, in addition to the insufferably hot temperatures, the humidity makes the air so thick that it becomes difficult to breath. After learning that the pool remained open to building residents and no reports of any disease outbreaks, my response to the job request despite my friend's warning was: FUCK YEAH!!!!
Can anybody say pool party?!
Following a little research and a lot of harassing phone calls made to forrealz scientists, I ended up testing the pool for mold, algae, and slime forming bacterial growth. Fun, right? For strictly scientific and documentary purposes, I decided it was necessary to purchase an underwater disposable camera. Side note - finding one of these cameras, even during the summer, is MUCH harder than it sounds. Significant mental/emotional/physical/metaphysical preparation is necessary before embarking on such a quest. Just an FYI.
This may be hard for some of you to believe, but an ugly, dark substance located on the bottom of a pool can be photographed only so many times. What to do with the rest of the film...? Did I even have to ask? Photo shoot. Obvi. My colleague, who shall be known as Porkchop, and I covered all the basics - handstands, pretending to be mermaids, thumbs up, foam noodle fights. Please enjoy the action shot below. I'm channeling my inner mysterious/sexy/nerdy/intellectual mermaid scientist persona. 
You know what else I can swab...
Photo credits: Borat, Spongebob Squarepants, Kodak

Monday, August 6, 2012

Subway Sightings: No Words...

Literally. No words. I've now seen this guy twice during my midday travels. He performs a surprisingly impressive magic routine on a moving subway without uttering a word. His act even involves a LIVE rabbit and bird! I feel bad for the animals, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't mesmerized by his routine (and his sexi bod, obvi). Check it out for yourself.

Have No Fear! The Mold Girl is Here!

Most of my inspections include private residences, although every once in a while I am hired to investigate an office. I recently stepped into a building and knew immediately I was somewhere cool. The walls of the chic, brightly lit office were covered with cartoon characters, ranging from comic book super heroes to Mario to anime. I found myself standing in the midst of a video game company (it was a learning video game company, not as cool as originally thought, but still). As I worked, two employees peppered me with questions about life as a mold inspector. They were fascinated by my job. Towards the end of our conversation, the man asked me for my card. I swear the guy wasn’t hitting on me—apparently the company is working on a science video game. HOW COOL WOULD IT BE TO BE MADE INTO A VIDEO GAME CHARACTER!!!!! Even if it is just a learning video game. Whatevs. Hopefully the guy emails me. Keeping my fingers crossed on this one!
I imagine my character would be something like a combination of Quailman and Lara Croft
Photo credits: Nickelodeon, Doug, Square Enix, Lara Croft

Skeletons in the Closet?

Almost, but not quite! This was an inspection of a very creepy closet in the basement of a hospital. If you can't tell from the picture, it's stuffed full of bodies... Well at least CPR dummies. 

As a side note, I was also asked to keep an eye out for any signs of rodent activity. Nothing spices up an investigation quite like the possibility of a rat jumping out at me!

Photo credit: The Muppets

What Lies Beneath

I was hired by a 75+ year old Eastern European woman to do an inspection of her Park Avenue  co-op apartment. We’ll call this woman Louisa Trachtenberg.  It was supposed to be a quick job with “just one or two rooms”.  According to Louisa, the resident above had been renovating their apartment and accidentally caused a leak into Ms. Trachtenberg’s home. Apparently the people upstairs are very wealthy, and happen to head the co-op board. As a result, Louisa was extremely frustrated because the board insisted she was crazy and that she has nothing to worry about. While Ms. Trachtenberg may not have been wrong about real water damage, I would definitely not say she wasn't crazy…

Typically when residents feel ignored, they absolutely LOVE venting to me in great detail regarding how they've been wronged, why they're not crazy, and all the ways in which their health/apartment/lives have been ruined. This often adds an extra hour or two to an investigation. Louisa classifies as one of my most extreme examples.

I was in a huge rush that day with several other appointments following her investigation. Just as I kept thinking I was ready to wrap up the inspection, Louisa would mention another room she thought needed testing, all the while talking my ear off about her upstairs neighbors. While Louisa herself was quite a character, her husband was a whole other story. I don’t make it a habit of ridiculing those with physical or mental disabilities, but there was definitely something off with Louisa’s husband. He most certainly was deaf and generally seemed checked out of reality. He silently shuffled around the apartment in his slippers observing me as I worked. Eep!
Throughout the investigation, Louisa was particularly fixated upon some slight discoloration of her dining room wallpaper. I attempted to pacify her by saying that staining is normal and it was most likely a result of water interacting with the wallpaper dye or glue. As an afterthought, I offered to peel back the paper and take a look behind. This is what I found:
Before: Slight blueish tinge to the wall paper
After: Jackpot!
Gross? Yes. Worthy of a meltdown? Apparently. At the sight of this mold, Louisa proceeded to shriek, collapse on the floor, and cry hysterically. Seriously lady, it was my face that was 6 inches away from this, not yours! Ms. Trachtenberg insisted on having her daughter come over immediately to discuss. She claimed to be in no state to recall anything said beyond this point and needed a witness. I was forced to sit with Ms. Trachtenberg until the daughter arrived. 
While Louisa clearly did have water damage throughout her apartment, the levels of airborne mold spores were completely normal (mold growth on a wall, especially from an old leak, doesn't necessarily mean mold in the air). Despite this, she had me write and rewrite her report not once, not twice, but FOUR times before it met her needs. Here's hoping the co-op board finally fixed her apartment! Cheers!

Photo credits: The Simpsons, www.debtpanicswansea.org.uk