Sunday, June 27, 2004

Never Talk Politics To A Man With A Plunger.

I've been having problems with a temperamental toilet. Sometimes it flushes, sometimes it gets its' swirl on, but nothing happens. So, I got online and searched for plumbers in my area ('cause I don't have a phone book 'cause it's the size of War & Peace). I ended up choosing "Diamond K Plumbing" 'cause my name starts with a 'K' and to me that translates into fate (it doesn't take much for me). Yeah, that's logical.

Anyway, I called because I heard dripping and it sounded as if it was dripping under the house. *Side note: I have an old house (it was built in 1940), so it has what they call a 'crawlspace' (AKA creepy flashback to The Boogens movie), beneath it. The crawlspace is accessible from a panel in the floor of the dining room closet.

Soooo, if the plumber had to get under the house, that means I had to remove all the misc. debris from the dining room closet (AKA deathtrap). That's always fun. I found stuff I didn't even remember having: Halloween decorations I couldn't find last Halloween, a heating pad (when did I buy that?), a Tom & Jerry board game and lots of misc. crap. It also turns out I own half a bag of Halloween candy circa 1995. Some of it had congealed in the bag. Nice. So I clear out the closet contents, move it to another room and lay down newspaper just in case it's muddy under there.

He's scheduled to be here at 9AM and shows up promptly at 2:30PM. What punctuality! So, he goes in the bathroom and (naturally) can't hear the dripping sound that I'm hearing (great, now I'm hearing things), so he decides to go investigate the crawlspace. I give him a flashlight and read him his last rites (The Boogens) and off he goes. Turns out it's NOT dripping under the house, thank god. However the dirt under the house is slightly damp, due to all the heavy rainfall we've been having, and after he's managed to fill very nook and cranny of his workboots with mud, he proceeds to grind dirt into 3 large rugs on the way to the door to wipe his feet (why bother?).

So while he's replacing some thingamajig in the back of the toilet, I decided to stop breathing down his neck like some old lady and get online and check on the news. Turns out another American guy got beheaded in Iraq. I go back to the bathroom to make small talk and casually mention this frustrating tidbit of news. Before I can finish the sentence he finishes it for me and tells me how he heard it on the radio in the truck on his way over. His voice kinda fades away, during his sentence, then he stands up and goes BA-fuckin'-LISTIC about us being over there in Iraq and what a mistake it was and how nobody takes responsibility for their actions anymore and how Bush is just the puppetmaster for all the corporations, etc. All of which I agree with, but he's getting increasingly pissed with every octave and the more he talks about it the more I'm starting to think to myself "What can I use as a weapon if he goes completely postal? What's within reach? Soap dispenser? No good. Toothbrush? No. Air freshener? That's it! I'll mace him with Crisp Breeze and while he's temporarily blinded (yet fragrant), I'll pelt him with various toiletries until I can get safely to the front door and out into the street."

Lucky for him, he gradually begins to calm down (maybe it was due to the cornered animal-look in my eyes), and sits back down on the edge of the tub and finishes changing out the doohickey, all the while mumbling about Vietnam vets and something about a Tejano music festival he missed. I slowly backed out, smiling and nodding and went to sit quietly, far away, with a book until he was done.

As it turns out, the whole problem was easily remedied. Apparently the tiny hole in the bottom of the bowl that controls the flow of water, when you flush the toilet, over time gets clogged with sediment from the water. He cleaned it out with his pocket knife (yikes) and the toilet flushed like gangbusters! I was so excited. I couldn't believe it. I'd been putting this off for over a year, due to another plumber's $900 estimate, and it was all taken care of in a matter of minutes. And for a hell of a lot less than $900! (try $85!)

I asked for his card, for future reference and wrote him a check. He gave me a receipt and got into his truck and was on his way. In the plus column, I now have a new plumber that I can rely on for any future plumbing emergencies. One that I know won't ream me with outrageous charges and bogus advice. Thank you volatile Larry!

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