MY kitchen sink was acting up. In fact, it began throwing up and causing a mess in the kitchen. My wife, Valerie, sent for Mr. Reece the plumber. He was old and slow, but reliable. He got it fixed even though it took the better part of two days. Val (Valerie) complained about how slow he worked. “That old man does things real slow. He can’t complete anything in less than two days.”

I sighed. She was just warming up.
“And he wants service while he works.”
She was referring to his regular request for cold water or something hot to “break the wind”. The latter usually meant coffee and a snack.
I grinned and immediately regretted it. She got angry.

“You could laugh. You don’t have to deal with him.”
“There is nothing to deal with, Val. Just humor him. It’s not that hard.”
“What about his belching and farting?” She nagged. “You think it easy holding your breath around him all the time?”
I tried not to smile and held my tongue. This did little to abate the onslaught.
“Next time something goes wrong you deal with it!” She sounded as if she was serious so I tried to pacify her.

“Sweetheart, if he’s such a pain let’s find another plumber. We could use one of those modern companies.”
Her reply was terse and final. “You do what you like. I am finished with it.”
And that was that.
A few weeks later I got a call from Val; the plumbing had gone bad again. This time it was the bathroom. I checked the yellow pages and contacted a plumbing service called ‘We Fix It’. I arranged for them to meet me at home in an hour. Leaving work early I hurried home. As I suspected, Val was out.

The plumber arrived two hours later and I made clear my dissatisfaction with his tardiness. The man assured me that this was not a reflection on their professionalism. I felt relieved and led him to the affected area. As he worked I relaxed in front of the television and watched a movie. Soon the repairs were forgotten.
A dry cough caught my attention and I turned to see the plumber in the doorway. He was soaked through and through and looked quite unhappy.

“Could I see the pipes downstairs?” he asked.
I led him down to the storeroom /laundry room where the pipes from the bathroom led. He thanked me and I headed back upstairs. For some reason, I was bothered by the idea that a plumber would be soaked like that so I headed to the bathroom to make a spot check.
The sound of running water greeted my ears as I drew nearer. I hurried to turn off the pipe he had left flowing and ran into my first shock.

There was a gaping hole in the wall where the pipe had been and water was gushing out and hitting the wall opposite with some force. Luckily it was the bath so the water went straight down the outlet. Stepping into the bath I peered down into the outlet and recoiled in shock. A pair of eyes stared back at me.
The plumber had removed the fittings downstairs and I could well imagine what was taking place in my storeroom. I raced down and confronted him.
“What is going on?” I demanded rudely.
The fellow was nervous and tried to explain. “The pipes are clogged so I had to remove the fittings.”

“Then why didn’t you turn off the main?” I roared in anger.
His face lit up and I realised that he had forgotten the most fundamental thing. He hastened to comply and I glanced around ruefully at the chaos this mistake had caused.
There were at least two inches of water on the floor and everything in sight was soaked. I cursed silently. The water slowed to a trickle then stopped altogether. Thank God for that.
When he returned to the storeroom I dispatched him back to his office with the understanding that I would contact them later. He tried reasoning with me but I was firm. A quick call to Mr. Reece got the usual response; he’ll be right over.

Half an hour later he was examining the damage done by the other plumber. He was astonished and angry that we had gone to someone else who had ‘mucked up his work’. I apologised and he relented and decided not to leave. He then got busy, if his efforts could be so described.
Valerie returned and her delight at my misfortune was palpable. She had faced many situations when repairs were needed and so far none had been as chaotic as this. She checked the area that was damaged and smiled in self-satisfaction.

My embarrassment was equally noticeable and I tried to conceal it from her by keeping out of her way until the job was finished. This I knew to be quite impossible since Mr. Reece could take anywhere from two days to two weeks. I sighed and resigned myself to my fate.
The next day I stayed at home and was ready for the usual requests of the old plumber.
“Could I have some cold water please?” He got it promptly.
“You have something hot, thanks?” Coffee and sandwich were offered.

Whenever I went downstairs and my nose was assaulted by his potent farts, I would grab the new can of air-freshener and give the area a brisk spray.
“It’s damp and smelly down here,” was how I excused this action.
Mr. Reece plodded on and on the fourth day announced that the job was completed. I was elated by this news. Val had been peppering me with smart remarks about my first ‘job’. It was finally over. She took a shower and was pleased with the work done. I paid the old man well.

The next day I visited “We Fix It’ and demanded to be reimbursed. They paid up and apologised for the trouble caused. They explained that the young man sent to do the repairs was only an apprentice. So much for professionalism.
The secretary who disclosed that the manager was out of the country and his assistant was out of town, conveyed to me that it was not the first time things of that nature had occurred. I thought of suggesting a change of name for their establishment: ‘We Fix It-Eventually.” I decided against this and got out of there.