(no subject)
Aug. 11th, 2012 02:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickDear tenant: Before you work on your my plumbing at 11:00 PM on Friday night, there are some things you should consider.
First, the plumbing stores are not open at 11 PM. Because the plumbing stores are not open, it is very difficult for me to get parts to fix what you break. This might be something to consider before you start tearing things apart at such an hour.
Second, the plumbing you are planning to work on is not yours and you are not the only person in your building. Thus, things that you break do not only inconvenience you. Please note that if things go wrong, you do not have access to the building main shutoff. Also, if things go very wrong, the person below you is going to get flooded. Try not to be a dick about this. Maybe 11 PM is not a good time to work on plumbing, eh?
Third, if you are not 100% capable of fixing the plumbing you have chosen to fuck with, you will wind up calling me once your ass is in the sling and the plumbing is slathering a mixture of Crisco and J-lube all over its hand and forearm. Do you really want me to see you under those circumstances? Why don't you save us all some embarrassment and call me, during business hours, while you're still dressed, the plumbing stores are open, and my plumbing is still in one piece?
Fourth and finally, if I do have to save you from the sling and the plumbing, it'd save me time if you just bloody well admit that you were "working" on the plumbing instead of pretending that it just magically got that way on its own while you were innocently watching last week's True Blood and working your way through the casting-on chapter of Principles of Knitting... no, wait, that was actally me.
Anyway, it was nice of you to call once you tried to install a new fluidmaster and tightened the living hell out of EVERYTHING with a pair of channel locks and still couldn't get it to stop leaking all over the floor at a hell of a clip. It was cute that you couldn't figure out which way to turn the tank hose and nut for the fill valve to loosen them. However, I saved you and my toilet tank before you broke ceramic, so no lives lost. (They'll be by tomorrow to repossess your Man Card.) And, jeepers, Mister, was your face ever red when I asked what the hell happened to the rubber washer that went inside the tank. You had to go fetch it out of the trash, where you threw it away along with the box (and the unread directions) when you were "done" with your "repair" work. You COULD have said sorry for fucking up my evening, but you didn't do that either. Asshat.
First, the plumbing stores are not open at 11 PM. Because the plumbing stores are not open, it is very difficult for me to get parts to fix what you break. This might be something to consider before you start tearing things apart at such an hour.
Second, the plumbing you are planning to work on is not yours and you are not the only person in your building. Thus, things that you break do not only inconvenience you. Please note that if things go wrong, you do not have access to the building main shutoff. Also, if things go very wrong, the person below you is going to get flooded. Try not to be a dick about this. Maybe 11 PM is not a good time to work on plumbing, eh?
Third, if you are not 100% capable of fixing the plumbing you have chosen to fuck with, you will wind up calling me once your ass is in the sling and the plumbing is slathering a mixture of Crisco and J-lube all over its hand and forearm. Do you really want me to see you under those circumstances? Why don't you save us all some embarrassment and call me, during business hours, while you're still dressed, the plumbing stores are open, and my plumbing is still in one piece?
Fourth and finally, if I do have to save you from the sling and the plumbing, it'd save me time if you just bloody well admit that you were "working" on the plumbing instead of pretending that it just magically got that way on its own while you were innocently watching last week's True Blood and working your way through the casting-on chapter of Principles of Knitting... no, wait, that was actally me.
Anyway, it was nice of you to call once you tried to install a new fluidmaster and tightened the living hell out of EVERYTHING with a pair of channel locks and still couldn't get it to stop leaking all over the floor at a hell of a clip. It was cute that you couldn't figure out which way to turn the tank hose and nut for the fill valve to loosen them. However, I saved you and my toilet tank before you broke ceramic, so no lives lost. (They'll be by tomorrow to repossess your Man Card.) And, jeepers, Mister, was your face ever red when I asked what the hell happened to the rubber washer that went inside the tank. You had to go fetch it out of the trash, where you threw it away along with the box (and the unread directions) when you were "done" with your "repair" work. You COULD have said sorry for fucking up my evening, but you didn't do that either. Asshat.
