My landlady’s a genius. Because she developed what has become know the world over as Pavlovian Heating.
The way it works is this:
1. In early October, when the first couple of weeks of cold weather arrive, you disappear, unreachable, all messages unanswered. You let your tenants sit, adding layers of clothing as they freeze, and let them consider whether or not they should break down your door, afraid that they may find you face down in your Cheerios.
2. Once they can’t take the psychological anguish of having a place that’s colder inside than out, and have given in and lugged an oil heater from Bed Bath & Beyond to their third floor flat, you BLAST heat, hissing and steaming, for three days straight, and claim that everything is as it should be. At this point it is important to draw their attention to the whistling sound the radiators make when on. The whistling. Whisper it to them in their sleep. Mention it randomly in conversation. Ssssssssssssssssssssss.
3. let it sink in.
4. When the weather turns cold for good in mid-November, let them sit again, maybe for a short weekend, with no heat.
5. And then - and this is the beauty of it - you somehow get the radiators to whistle, but without actually heating them. Ta-da! Your trained tenants believe they’re getting heat, when in fact they’re only hearing the auditory manifestation they associate with it. You save money, they don’t know they’re cold, it’s a flawless system.
I sometimes have violent thoughts involving my landlady, the oil heater, and lots of chicken wire.
