These are the sort of oddments that passed through my head this morning as I worked my way through a Stat lesson while just a few feet away, the aforementioned plumber was squeezed into a broom closet, talking to his coworker in the bathtub on the other side of the wall. I haven't a clue what they were saying, my Spanish is nowhere near that fluent yet, particularly in regards to that topic. In restaurants - whether as a customer ordering food or an employee in the kitchen - I'm good, but pipes and valves and faucets? Not a chance.
Yes, this another post without any pictures. But really - do you need me to post one? Are you not already familiar with what the backside of a plumber looks like? If not, then may I suggest that you move into a house built prior to 1940. (Bonus points if the toilets run on salt water). That should solve the problem nicely. And if by chance you can find one that has had little to no maintenance in the past two decades, you should be really well positioned for building a special new relationship with your local plumber!
1 comment:
My dad hired my last plumber for me. Which is the only reason he showed up on time and was finished in a timely fashion. When I hire them, it does not go quite so smoothly...
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