January 30, 2016 by phicks2012
So, here’s the story: The same rental tenant who recently had a burst water pipe in her front yard contacted me on a lovely January morning saying that the hot water would not go off in her tub. This was not a trickle, mind you, but a steady flow, and she didn’t want a horrendous hot water bill, so (again) they’d turned off the water at the main and had no running water as a result.
January wasn’t really going as I’d hoped financially in the first place. I’d had to pay someone to work on a furnace in another rental unit, and when we were leaving that unit the tenant next door (NOT the tenant with the leak, but one we’d recently done electric repairs for) had decided to cop an attitude with the HVAC guy (and with Jason, who had nothing to do with it) about where the HVAC van was parked. The tenant hadn’t been home when the van had been parked, it had only been there for about 20 minutes, and the tech was leaving anyway, so the attitude was completely unnecessary. We think he was trying to impress his friend (who was in the car with him) about what a bad-ass he was, but if he’d asked nicely the van would have been moved immediately. Hell, it was being moved anyway, and I personally think it’s a bad idea to deliberately piss off the man who handles your repair issues and cuts your grass without asking for recompense, especially when he’s never been anything but nice to you. It’s even stupider to threaten him, in front of your landlady, with a pittbull puppy you aren’t allowed to have and haven’t paid a pet deposit for — but sometimes people just aren’t all that bright, right?
Anyway, I was not looking forward to yet another expense, and was hoping the problem with the hot water faucet could be easily fixed, but then I told Jason about the running faucet, and –don’t tell me men can’t PMS, because I’m convinced he sometimes does. In this case, he didn’t want anything to do with it, or even to listen. He rarely gets like that but sometimes he seems to be channelling a bipolar entity, so because this wasn’t something that could wait for him to get over his bad mood I was left with two options. 1)Try to fix it myself, or 2)Pay someone else to do it.
I’m not a plumber, but I bloody well didn’t want to pay one, so I chose option one, and discovered that while I might not have a “plumbing gene” I’m actually not totally incompetent. I drove to the unit, removed the knob and the trim, took out the cartridge (I discovered that they’re called “cartridges”, by the way), and took it to Home Depot, where a consultant in the plumbing department took one look at it and said “well, no wonder. The washer’s missing”. I wound up purchasing a packet of 10 rubber washers for $1.50, after which I replaced a missing washer, returned to the unit, reassembled the faucet, and VOILA! Fixed.
Miracles do happen, even if I fail to win the next’s Power Ball! 😉