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Friday, August 3, 2012

Plumbers and that thing librarians HATE that I did. Three times.

This is part episode of "Adventures in Home Ownership" part "Librarian Pet Peeves."

Let us begin with the librarians.  I did it.  That thing that all (OK.  Maybe not all, but MOST) librarians hate.  And I didn't do it just once.  I did it three times.  And it felt dirty.

It's that thing that people do day in and day out and they never even look up from their laps.  Even if the entire library was papered with naked bodies they wouldn't notice (OK.  That might be the singular thing that would actually catch their attention).

You're thinking "Oh god!  You didn't sit by the window and look at porn did you?!?!"  No.  But it's almost as bad.

I, ladies and gentlemen of public librarianship, went to the library for one thing and one thing only: free wifi.  See, I haven't gone to the DMV yet and we didn't have the interwebs installed at the house and I REALLY needed to look up some phone numbers of contractors/fencing guys/veterinarians etc. and check my email so I went to the library.  I didn't even look at any books. I knew I couldn't check any of them out.  So even though I am itching to finally read the new Anita Blake vampire hunter book and Insurgent I didn't even look.  Partly because I've already seen the um, organizational structure of my local library and it gives me a panic attack; but mostly because I knew I couldn't take the books home with me.  The sad part?  I still haven't gone to get my Driver's License.  I don't want it to drive, I want it to read (and yes, I know I can probably technically get my card without the Wisconsin DL)!  I'm still ashamed of myself.

On to the plumbers.

This isn't a story of butt cracks, my friends.  Oh no. That would be trivial.

I shall begin with our first plumber.  I found some water in our basement.  I was terrified because I noticed it while our tile guy was in the second floor bathroom ripping out everything in site.  I thought he'd hit something and the walls were filling up with water only to slowly trickle down into the basement.  The first plumber, let's call him... Michael, told me what the problem was and how to fix it (the grout on the inset soap holder in the first floor bath was bad and leaking.  We needed new caulking.).  Then he installed the new shower head that we'd bought because I wasn't smart enough to figure out that not only was the first piece on the old-ass shower head threaded and would unscrew easily, but so was the ball type piece.  Idiot!  I paid him $98 and he left.  He gave me some other commentary on some pipes but all I registered was a bit of Used Car Salesman and "blah-blah-blah I know, we have an old-ass house with old-ass pipes."

Enter our second plumber perhaps 3 days later. 

Let me preface this by saying that there wasn't anything wrong with what our first plumber did.  At least, not that I've noticed.  My tile guy told me that he was going to call his plumber guy because he needed to cap some pipes near the sink and also to basically transform our shower from three knobs to one knob due to the new shower hardware we decided on.  He said that the guy would be here Saturday morning around 9:30.

 I said "What's this guy's name?"
To which my tile guy says "Well, he goes by Buckshot."

BUCKSHOT????  Oh God, this is going to be interesting.

When DJ got home that night, I told him my guess was that the guy was a 'nam vet.  He'd gotten some shrapnel in his leg and "Buckshot" sounded like a bad-ass nickname. I never found out if I was right or wrong, but it didn't matter in the slightest.

9:30 arrives and the doorbell rings.  I let Buckshot in (and no, I didn't pull the joke that DJ came up with which was "What's your last name?  Buckshot Johnson?  No?  Sorry.  You must be some other Buckshot").  I showed him where the second floor shower was and he got to work.  The rest of this story has been relayed to me by DJ several times since I believe I was in the basement doing laundry at the time of the occurrence.  The following is a loose portrayal of what took place:

Buckshot: Well, I'm finished.  If you can pay me, I'll be out of here.

DJ (with a bit of confusion as our tile guy had not mentioned us needing to pay this dude as he was being subcontracted): Um, I didn't realize we had to pay you.  I thought this was being covered under our contractor.

Buckshot: I was told you were going to pay me in cash.

DJ (the incredulity is mounting.  In addition, it is still morning...): Um, ok.  I don't have $200+ in cash on me.   I'll be right back. *DJ goes to get his checkbook* Ok.  Who do I make this out to?

Buckshot (with a bit of hesitation):  Well, um. I guess it would be, well.  You, um.  See the problem is, I don't have a bank, see.  And um, the bar where I normally cash my checks burned down so.... um, I guess make it out to Tom Riddle.

See what I did there?  I've been itching to use that name all day!

And that was our second experience with a plumber in the Milwaukee area. 


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