What is one to do when you wake up one morning and the bathroom is flooded? Not severely flooded but all the mats are drenched and the only dry space is under the sink. Well, you pick up the phone and call a plumber right? Of course!!! There is no way in hell you would try to fix it yourself. Am I correct?
So explain to me why I initially took out my tools (yes, stop laughing. I have tools in my house. Ok!!) and attempted to find the source of the leak so see if it could be fixed by me. Hey I have various size “washers” in my apartment and a
nice tool kit and I have been known to do a little plumbing myself. I am not all that clumsy.
So anyway, after turning off the main, I mopped up the water (translation: I put some newspaper down to soak it up) and then proceeded to feel my way around the exposed pipes to local the trouble spot. I found what I thought was the trouble spot and well it was in the wall. Somehow water was leaking internally and causing this drama.
Feeling empowered, I telephoned my two plumbers. Two you say? Well you really can’t expect one plumber to be ready when you call or to even remember you. Hell No!! These demigods act as if you are disturbing their slumber with mundane tasks. During the mere act of talking to them you being to realize that this person thinks you to be a simpleton and therefore unworthy of a prompt or any kind of coherent response from them. They also can’t remember you and you have to give them a whole history of what work they did for you before they agree to anything. Plus they come and go as they please. They make cable guys looks like saints. I call two of them just to make sure one isn’t trying to bamboozle me. Anyway I digress.
I called Marc and Michael and explained to them the situation. And here are there responses:
Marc: Yeah well ah cooking right now.
Leh meh call yuh back when ah done. In an hour or so
Michael: Who is you again?
Sigh I go through this everytime. Now Marc is the plumber
I call for minor problems. He was recommend by a friend who described him as “Young
but he has his plumbing papers”. (Err
Yeah ok whatever that means). He is effective and works really fast and is
a neat freak, so I keep his number handy. However, you have to drive him to the
hardware fro any supplies as all he has in his bag are tools and a caulk gun. He
also writes down NOTHING so you better be good at note taking..
Michael is the “big job” guy. He has inventory. So any job
that needs to be done, he is your man. He never leaves your premises except to
his van to get a something. He is brilliant. But he only works for cash and
doesn’t like to give receipts. He isn’t costly either. Hmmm interesting eh.
Overall, they are both not bad and their work is really
good. Reliable? Umm well they’re plumbers. You can’t expect anything more from
So anyway, they both agreed in the end to call me back
when they had some free time. Marc calls me back at 2 hours later to ask if he
can come around 7pm as he
has an important thing to do. I say
no problem. At this point, Michael still hasn’t called me back.
I text Michael. He doesn’t answer. At 6pm,
when I’ve spent all day with the water off and therefore am a little peeved, I
call him back. Before I can say anything
he tells me he will be at my apartment at 8am
sharp. 8AM? Yuh mean
Marc calls me at 7:45pm
to state that he can’t remember where I live so if I can come pick him up on
the main road. I breathe a sigh of relief as one of my plumbers has answered my
call for help.
I almost miss Marc on the main road as he is dressed
rather casually (a red netted vest and a short jeans). I also didn’t recognize
him because he didn’t have any (how
should I put this?) TOOLS. I was looking for someone with a tool
bag. Instead I pick up someone with a beer bottle (Stag) in hand. He gets into the car and is reeking of beer
and a lil weed. (Nice Stefan!! Real nice!!)
All of a sudden I begin to wonder what my neighbours will
think when I pull up to my apartment with this person dressed like a “rude boy”
and who is wielding a beer bottle in his hand.
Was I planning a heist? Was I a drug dealer? Hmmm the thoughts that may
have gone through their minds. Too bad I don’t hear these things otherwise I would’ve
known who de bitch was that hit my car during carnival. Sigh. Sorry, the wound
still hasn’t healed fully.
Anyway he gets to my apartment and heads straight to the
bathroom and looks at the problem. He looks at it for about 5 minutes without
making a sound and without answering any question I pose to him in that time. I
kneel down close to him to see what he is looking at and is only then I realize
that he is asleep in a that position. I tap him on his shoulder and he
immediately starts talking about what may be the problem. He then gives me a
list of stuff I need to purchase so he can fix it.
I asked if he may have to burst the wall and he says
nothing. I ask again. He says nothing. He just turns to me and asks if I can drop
him by his girlfriend. I say ok. He then says:
Marc: Once yuh buy de things we go
figure out a time in de week when ah could pass and do it.
Me: umm can u not come tomorrow. This
Marc: Ummm boy I real tight right now
and I could only answer that when I wake up in the morning. De beach was too
Me: Oh you went to the beach?
Marc: Yeah boy I get up this morning with
nothing to do and a pardna pass for meh to go to de beach. Now meh gyul vex wid
me for dat. But she go get a good beat out and a hug up tonight and she go
Me: I hear that (in a shaky tone)
I dropped him off and went back to my apartment , had a
bath and shut off the main again.
Michael came bright and early in the morning and fixed the
problem. I was really happy about that. It took him an hour. He didn’t have to
burst the wall . Whatever he did, I am happy with. There are no more leaks.
In the meantime, Marc hasn’t called me back and well I have no reason to call. But really? Do
Word of the Day:.
Beat Out (v) – (1) to strike repeatedly
(2) sexual reference used by men to imply that
they have pleasured their women to an extreme. The female is left satisfied and