Yeah - that was good. The guy's effing awesome and he's been back since the porch redoing to do other projects in our house, though no other comedic recurrences that I can recall off hand. Which aren't really necessary when you're doing something as awesome as building us a bar.
Love that guy.
Well, we have another instance of comedian contractors except this time it's plumbing and also I don't think they were trying to be funny. Or smart. Or even - plumbers.
Basically, I think the guy who plumbed our house was...shall we say...NOT ALIVE IN THE BRAINS.
Have I ever told you that none of our plumbing was properly connected?
Like, when we moved in we realized - after three weeks, mind you - that the shower drain in our bathroom and the waste pipe under our house were not connected to one another. No gasket, no nothing. Just water going down the shower drain and some of it going IN the pipe below and some of it going AROUND the pipe below and then into our basement where EW.
That was a fun moment of discovery.
Particularly because it happened as Bubba was leaving for work and just went into our EW basement to double check the timing on the sprinkler so that we weren't spraying water all over our new neighbors only to find that YAY we were spraying water all over our new basement.
Later I found that the J trap under our kitchen sink wasn't screwed in tight and that water had been dribbling out for however long and had completely warped the cabinet base.
Though, that incident prompted me to go check our bathroom sink's piping only to find that YEP SAME DEAL IN HERE, so I tightened that piping, too, and then spent a long time with my fist in the air swearing all my swears in unison.
It was a time of great shrieking and furious anger. Also, throwing of everything under the sink(s).
Well, that brings us to two weeks ago when, as I was landing in San Diego International Airport on my way home from my lovely, relaxing, BBQ-eating-until-I-was-full-for-four-days trip with Africankelli, I received a text from Bubba:
"Don't use the washer when you get home."
Um, kay. "Dare I ask why?"
"There's a leak."
*Woman next to me in the tiny ass airport lounge stares at me with disgust probably because of my loud swearing and fist waving*
Anyway, I called a new plumber from the airport so that he could come inspect this leak. And inspect he did! And tell us that we had to get into the wall he did!
And so rip out the wall we did.
|Oh wow. There's bead board under the drywall. Big surprise.|
Which - as awful as that sounds - was not that bad nor was it something we were opposed to doing.
In fact, when he recommended opening up the wall, I believe I startled him with my enthusiastic, "Awesome! OK!" because Bubba has had that laundry room marked for destruction since we moved in six years ago.
Something about things being "ALL WRONG. WHO WOULD DO THIS?" and such.
|Wrong things: conduit outside the wall, drain pipe outside the wall, outlets outside the wall - ALL THINGS OUTSIDE THE WALL.|
But, whatever, dude was glad that I was not only awesomely excited to open up the wall but that we were going to do that demo work for him so he could just swoop in later and fix the leak.
Well, I'll let you guess what we found when we opened the wall this weekend.
|It wasn't a fucking pot of gold, I'll tell you that.|
Go on, guess...I'll wait...
...come on...you know...
|Oh for reals.|
That's right - the sunuvabitching pipe was not connected properly.
I'll just wait while you let that sink in.
Drain pipe from washing machine not connected to waste pipe in wall of house.
WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE HELL, PEOPLE?
For reals, we nearly pooed when we saw that.
And the plumber (who we LOVE) actually laughed out loud. And then he fixed the PANTS off of it.
|I don't understand - all pipes run in a continuous connected line? This must be new technology.|
LET US NOT FORGET.
Also, let us soon wash clothes without flooding our driveway. Amen.