On Sunday night as I was running the dishwasher, a pipe broke loose under the sink and began to shoot water out at a decent pressure. Luckily, I happened to be in the kitchen when this happened as I was wiping up a pee spot that my geriatric pug had recently made.
My first bold move was to shut off the dishwasher. Upon opening the cabinet under the sink, I was fairly alarmed to see (and feel) a wave of water deposit several cleaning supplies housed under the kitchen sink on the floor, much like an ocean wave does with seaweed and dead fish. Shit. I summoned the BF from upstairs with my amazing vocal abilities and he did his best to hold back the flood while I ran outside and turned off the water at the main valve. I finished by attempting to use the shower squeegee to move some water outside while the BF attempted to get our landlord into action with email and phone calls.
Let me backtrack by mentioning that we are renting a place that has horrible, rusty pipes among a host other things. Our landlord choses to “fix” things cheaply, which is to say half-assed, if he even acknowledges our maintenance request at all. This method of “fixing” things has already resulted in numerous plumbing visits, which is why I could locate and shut off the main valve in the first place.
We go to bed Sunday night with no word back from our landlord – for the purpose of this story, let’s call him BOB – about when an emergency plumber will arrive. Monday morning is when BOB calls to inform us that our regular contractor is showing up around noon, but that I should call him to “make sure”. Just whatever, BOB, I need to take a shower.
Did I mention that our driveway is getting ripped up today too? Completely separate incidents that came together to make this the Perfect Storm of Misery. Our contractor didn’t have the easiest access to our house and had to take several trips to his truck.
Finally, he disappeared and didn’t return for maybe 2 hours. I assumed he just said to hell with this and walked out on his job, but I heard activity as he had just let himself back in (why not? He left without saying anything 2 hours ago, right?) and got back to work. As it turns out, this job was too big for him and he had gotten a real-maybe plumber.
As the day wore on, the real-maybe plumber couldn’t get the job done either (insert circus music) because the crap-ass pipe kept breaking and they couldn’t attach the new pipe to the crappy one. I creeped on the action from an upstairs window and this is our regular contractor guy yelling on his phone. I wish I had one of those star trek universal translators, as I am assuming that he is talking to BOB and this can be filed under: JUICY stuff. But, as I do not speak that language, I must only guess.
I took Leo for a short walk and came back to see BOB in my kitchen along with the regular contractor. The real-maybe plumber had migrated out to the patio where the work had moved and delivered the worst news ever. It wasn’t getting done today. He didn’t have the right tools. Meanwhile inside, I could see the other two gesturing at the cabinets, ceiling and pantry which is on the opposite side of the room. Uh-oh, there is no scenario where this is going to be good. So glad I only rent this place.
Apparently, only the pipes that were easy (read:cheap) to get done were actually done some unknown amount of time ago. The plan was that another plumber was meeting BOB here at 6pm to do an estimate on replacing all the rest of the pipes with copper piping AND all the kitchen cabinets replaced too.
They all leave and I rush to get Leo fed, medicated and sequestered again before the clown show resumes. He sniffs the air as I carry him down the stairs and begins to bark and howl, carrying on like a rabid beast until his face is in his food bowl.
The next plumber arrives 20 minutes early and is possibly 5% fluent in english. He looks at the whole house for maybe 5 minutes and then tries to get me to okay the estimate. He doesn’t understand that I am just the renter and calls his son to talk to me. Finally BOB shows up and they walk around my house again. Neither of them can understand each other and they stand out in the garage repeating themselves until the plumber calls his son again. A deal is struck that does not involve kitchen cabinet tear down as the pipes are in the ceiling. They will be back Wednesday morning to do the full replacement and it will take 1 day.
Sigh. It’s Monday night and I need a shower already.