Man vs Drain
The water has been running down slowly lately. Deep down beneath the bathroom sink, something has been clogging up the pipe.
Below the trap.
Below the tubes.
Underneath the floor-tiles…
I hated the idea of having to call a plumber. Talk about money down the drain(har har).
Therefore: I dismounted the whole thing until only a small hole in the floor remained. I hit it with all the usual remedies. Hot water, plunger and various acidic chemicals. Everything failed.
I found out the hard way that washing your hands after going to the toilet is a habit that is hard to wash off(har har again). It also gives you very wet feet when there’s no pipe between the sink and the floor.
Yesterday, after making a mess and getting my feet wet for the 20th time, I got pissed and made the rash decision to force a modified(read: horribly twisted) coat-hanger down into the little hole.
It worked out well… NOT.
Whatever was obstructing the pipe moved a couple of inches before it stopped dead and wouldn’t budge. Maybe some hot water will do the trick now?
I carefully tried pouring some water into the hole.
Now, before my little coat-hanger abortion attempt, the water had been running down slowly. Now, it wasn’t running down at all.
I jammed the coat-hanger down there again and again… No luck. I had just made slight nuisance into a big problem.
I stuffed the hole with some well-chosen curse-words and went to bed.
When I woke up this morning, the water was still there. I poured some more chemicals down but I couldn’t even get the entire dosage down before the hole overflowed.
Bitter, I accepted defeat, started peace-negotiations with the thought of calling a plumber on monday and retreated to the couch. No other choice really.
I watched the handball-game between Sweden and Poland. Sweden had to win, and at the end of the first half it looked like we would. But as soon as the commentator said it was impossible to lose with an 11 point lead, I knew we were screwed.
Sure enough, with 30 seconds left on the clock, Poland brought the score to a draw. Even tho I knew it would happen, I was annoyed…
Muttering, I went to the toilet. The little hole of water was laughing in my face.
It really pushed me over the edge.
“Screw the plumber! You’re going down, hole!”
I went to the attic and found a piece of unused electrical cable. I shoved the cable down into the hole and when it would go no further: I pulled it back and shoved again. Hard! Over and over… harder and harder.
I must’ve been on the floor for more than 10 minutes, frantically jamming the cable down the little hole when suddenly, the clogged up innards of my bathroom let out a thick bubbly sound. The resistance on the cable disappeared and a gust of heavy, rotten wind came out of the hole.
My stomach turned and my vision went blurry…
I blacked out. *
I woke up to find that the water is now running just fine.
So.
Sweden vs Poland = 29-29
Per vs Plumbers = 29 - 0
Sweden will not advance in the European championship of handball.
I will no longer have wet feet when I wash my hands.
Plumbers, fuuuuuuuuu!
* Lies
