Burst Pipe II
/The Adventure Continues...
While Blair was outside with the wrench, I was dialing plumbers in the phone book like a woman possessed. It's 7 o'clock on a Saturday night and NO ONE is answering. I leave messages on "Emergency 24-hour plumbing hot lines" and keep dialing.
I actually get one plumber on the phone, but he doesn't "do" emergency calls. "Good luck, " he says. "Thank you, you rat-bastard," I reply. (Okay, I didn't really say that. But I wanted to). Finally, the emergency people call us back.
"We can send someone out, but he's on overtime so it will cost you a jillion dollars an hour," they say. Oh...they're good. They know when they've got you by the balls.
"Send him," I say.
"And you are accepting of the jillion dollars an hour rate, ma'am?"
"Yes, fine. Just send him."
"He'll be there in 20 minutes. And by the way, that charge will be a jillion dollars an hour."
He was there in 40 minutes and, for someone who makes a jillion dollars an hour on overtime, was a very nice man. But he couldn't find the source of the break. We think the pipe burst near the underpart of our house where only anorexic chipmunks can slide on their belly into the area. So jillion-dollar plumber man left us on Saturday night with the words, "I'll be back on Monday."
No water until Monday. Not a happy thought. No water means no toilet, no shower, no tooth-brushing water, no hand-washing water, no face-washing water, no coffee-making water (that's where the panic set in).
So we did what we had to do. Lake in the front yard be damned. We turned the water back on and filled up buckets and pitchers and glasses of water. No running water? Bring it on, baby. We were ready.
