Occasionally in the last 20 years or so I have had to call a plumber as Mr.Wrekker would be out of town and plumbing emergency occurred(I say occasionally, it was exactly 3 times).
Two of those times were outdoors. He only stepped inside my house once.
It was the pedestal sink in the 1/2 bath. It dripped a drip that bored holes in my head. I heard every little plop that water made. I nearly went insane. I tried everything. Turning the handles, repeatedly. I couldn’t get to the undersink cut-off. I believe this was premeditated by my contractor when we built. He hated me, so he left me a few surprises like this.
So… in desperation I called Mr.Otis.
Let me tell you about Mr.Otis: (it won’t take long) Drunk, Dirty and Dumb.
He knew his plumbing though, so they said.
When he came out he was pretty sloshed. And dirty. Looked like he had been laying in a gutter for the last few hours. I showed him to the offending sink. He told me to go out. He shut the door. I thought he was gonna pray to the plumbing gods, but NO! he needed to take a pee. :smack:
I heard no flushing. Oh, god my germaphobe senses were tingling.
He opened the door and ask I me if I knew where the whole house shut off was? “Yes, sez I.” I thrilled at this because when he went out I could flush. Nope, wrong again. He told me to go shut it off and turn the well pump off first.
See? I told you he knew plumbing. I would have never known to flip the switch on the pump.
I run out to the well house and take care of these two things.
When I get back in the house, Mr. Otis was on the bathroom floor his giant hands in the cut-out on the back of the pedestal. His face pressed against the porcelain.
I thought, for a minute, he was stuck or something. He wasn’t moving.
Then I heard it. Yep. He was snoring. He was asleep.
I took this opportunity to flush the toilet.(this was a mistake) He didn’t move.
I ran in the kitchen and got Febreze, I thought to deodorize a bit, while I had the chance.
I got back to the bathroom and sprayed a few squirts and kicked Mr.Otis’ foot.
He woke up with a start. I sez, “I’ve turned the water off”
“Good, good” he says.
He fiddles around the back of the sink. Cursing and grumbling at how bad he hated pedestal sinks. “Yeah, Mr.Otis, I feel you, I’m not liking them too much myself.”
He gets the cut-off turned off, finally. He says the faucet set up has to go. I’ll have to buy a new one. No use trying fix that thing. Ok.
He stumbles out of the house and says he’ll come back in a day or 2. I can turn the water back on and switch the pump on. I just won’t have water to that sink. Ok. I can live with that.
I had trepidation about turning the water back on. I had visions of a giant spray of water soaking the bathroom before I ran back out and cut it all off (pump first) again. Who am I kidding, my water pressure is not that good.
It all went well, though.
Mr. Otis never came back. He never sent me a bill.
I suppose he didn’t know how much billing hours he had. Since he slept through most of it. And, I did the running.
And flushing.
Mr.Wrekker changed the faucet when he got home.
It drips to this day.
I’ve finally learned to tune it out.
Or, I’m insane.
Bad, bad, bad!
