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Dishwasher, chapter 4 - just kill me
Apr. 2nd, 2008 07:21 pmWhat? We're still talking about the damn dishwasher? Sort of. Yesterday, the plumber came, as I said, and put the part on and left.
This morning, I step onto the little rug in front of the sink, which is wet. VERY wet. I, of course, blame the puppy monster, rinse the rug out, put it outside to dry, dry the floor underneath, try to make tea. But it didn't really smell like puppy pee, so I'm still puzzled when I step into more water in front of the sink, where I just dried the floor. Yes, it's really a puddle. Yes, it's coming from the cabinet under the sink. Yes, dammit, its the hot water connection to the DISHWASHER!!! Stomp around cussing, yank things out from under the sink, throw plastic things around until I find the right sized Tupperware to put under leak, try to dry the particle board floor of the cabinet, turn the tea water off because the kettle is screaming at me, go get a wrench to see if I can just tighten it and make it quit leaking. Stop. This is not really my problem. Oh, I mean it's a damn big problem, but someone else is responsible, and is going to twist his little butt under the garbage disposal between the pipes and fix this. I call yesterday's plumber. At the office. I remind him who I am, and tell him I have water. (well, actually by this time I'd finally gotten the presence of mind to cut the water off to the sink) And that he needs to come back and fix it. It's 9:15. He claims to be "on a call" and will call me as soon as he's done there. So I finish making tea and wait. wait. wait. By the time my darling comes home for lunch, at 12:30, I no longer believe in the plumber. I tell Mark he must tighten the fitting. He must eat first. fine. Eat something dry, there's no water in the kitchen. After he leaves to go back to work, having "forgotten" the leak, I finally make poor Thomas get down there and fix it. What can I say? Shit rolls down hill. He should have been born first, and then he'd have been off to college and Mat would have to have done it.
I have a list of people to send complaints to. Lowe's who sold me the thing. Frigidaire who let the defective thing leave the factory, AND who picked out the plumber. The BBB. The plumber, again. Shoot, I know where he lives I may call his mama.
chap.3
chap.2
chap.1
This morning, I step onto the little rug in front of the sink, which is wet. VERY wet. I, of course, blame the puppy monster, rinse the rug out, put it outside to dry, dry the floor underneath, try to make tea. But it didn't really smell like puppy pee, so I'm still puzzled when I step into more water in front of the sink, where I just dried the floor. Yes, it's really a puddle. Yes, it's coming from the cabinet under the sink. Yes, dammit, its the hot water connection to the DISHWASHER!!! Stomp around cussing, yank things out from under the sink, throw plastic things around until I find the right sized Tupperware to put under leak, try to dry the particle board floor of the cabinet, turn the tea water off because the kettle is screaming at me, go get a wrench to see if I can just tighten it and make it quit leaking. Stop. This is not really my problem. Oh, I mean it's a damn big problem, but someone else is responsible, and is going to twist his little butt under the garbage disposal between the pipes and fix this. I call yesterday's plumber. At the office. I remind him who I am, and tell him I have water. (well, actually by this time I'd finally gotten the presence of mind to cut the water off to the sink) And that he needs to come back and fix it. It's 9:15. He claims to be "on a call" and will call me as soon as he's done there. So I finish making tea and wait. wait. wait. By the time my darling comes home for lunch, at 12:30, I no longer believe in the plumber. I tell Mark he must tighten the fitting. He must eat first. fine. Eat something dry, there's no water in the kitchen. After he leaves to go back to work, having "forgotten" the leak, I finally make poor Thomas get down there and fix it. What can I say? Shit rolls down hill. He should have been born first, and then he'd have been off to college and Mat would have to have done it.
I have a list of people to send complaints to. Lowe's who sold me the thing. Frigidaire who let the defective thing leave the factory, AND who picked out the plumber. The BBB. The plumber, again. Shoot, I know where he lives I may call his mama.
chap.3
chap.2
chap.1
