noun: humor or frivolity, esp. the treatment of a serious matter with humor or in a manner lacking due respect.
Humor or Frivolity indeed! After the last couple of “introspective” posts on property, security and metaphysical leaps of faith, it’s time to lighten the mood. That’s why it’s time to talk about plumbing… wait, what? Let me look at my notes here… Yup… Plumbing. I despise plumbing.
verb: feel contempt or a deep repugnance for.
Repugnance! Yes… Repugnance! That is a damn fine word. I have a deep repugnance for plumbing. What is all this about you ask? The home inspection found some “issues” with some leaky supply lines to the sinks and toilet in my back-house. So, Mr. Home Inspector says I must fix or have fixed, said leaks and add a “P Trap” to the tub drain in my bathroom. This is the point at which I felt like saying, “look, I’ll go have a colonoscopy, they’ll have a couple leaky sinks and no “P Trap (Whatever the frig that is) and we’ll call it even.” Deal?
This looks like a job for Mr. Sylvan Park Handyman! I’ve seen the trucks for the last ten years driving around my neighborhood and now I am in need of rescue. DUMB LUCK! My neighbor drives one of those fancy white vans that reads something like; “No job too small! Licensed, Bonded, Insured… great dancers, who like long walks on the beach, piña colada’s and puppies. God fearing, atheist’s who love whales and show up on time!” Ok, I’m reaching, that’s a lot to write on the side of a van. I grabbed my phone, walked out into the yard, gathered my thoughts and prepared myself to… ahem, ask for help. Something no man likes to do. What to my wondering eyes do see? My neighbor, yes… that neighbor, enjoying a Krystal, grey meat “hamburger” on his stoop! Dare I ask? I do. I went over, introduced myself and asked if he had a few minutes AFTER he finishes that delicious looking, little grey cheeseburger to assess my situation. He agrees.
A few minutes pass and a knock comes on my back door. Gene is a strapping man. Large, clean shaven and bald. Picture Mr. Clean, sans earrings. He looks at my “P Trap” issue and complete lack of access to the area and begins with another thing no man wants hear, the vague and off-putting, “Hmmm. Mmm. Hm. “Click, (draws air in through his teehth)” Mm.” Ugh! Not the “click, draws air” thing. That’s expensive! Then the damage. “That’s really tight in there. That could take two men about 2 hrs. and at $115.00 for the first hour, you could be looking at $400.00.” What? $400.00 for something called a “P Trap?” That’s ridiculous. Thanks Gene! Nice to see you Mr. Sylvan Park Handyman, Son-of-bitch, rip-off jerk bag! Put that on your van smacked-ass!
I got into my shitty little truck, drove to Home Depot, purchased said “P F’ing Trap”, glue, 90 degree this and that stuff and promptly marched home and cut a massive hole in the drywall. You want access? I got your access bitch… and in one hour, yes 1 HOUR… me… novice, no count plumbers-ass got said “P Trap” installed. $34.95! Then, I went on to fix the two leaky sinks and the toilet and GUESS WHAT?
They still leaked. Grrrrr. Now Melody… my girl says, “Honey I used to be a plumber in a former life. Why don’t you let me take a stab at this. You did the “P Trap” and your obviously losing patience with this… so go for a run and I’ll fix it before you get home.
Repugnance leads men to do strange things. I agreed. Yep… I got out of the way of my penis and surrendered the wrenches and teflon tape with aplomb. I went for a lovely run and cleared my head of drywall dust and dank crawl space fungus while Melody toiled away under the sink. When I returned I expected to find her as exasperated as I had previously been. Not so. She went to the hardware store, bought a new hose (source of the leak) and installed it with thread sealant and then reorganized the entire under-sink area. Dry as a bone.
Now some people deduce that they were Napoleon or Gandhi in former lives. Joan of Arc, Mary Magdalene… Not my baby. Nope. She was a plumber… And I have to say, that’s one “plumber’s-ass” I can handle.