There’s no greater feeling of gloom, than taking a day trip, and returning to your humble abode to fine a Bobcat back hoe parked in your space and a big hole in your back yard.
I called a plumber six months ago and he never showed up. I called another five months ago and he showed up but was afraid to crawl under my house. Four months ago I called a plumber who went under the house and delivered me a bill for $283 and said I was fine. (Call me, I’ll give you his name.)
Three months ago, I had swine flu and chose to ignore the continuing menacing signs that plumbing might be a problem. Two months ago, my Termenix man said I had a huge leak under the house and gave me a reputable plumber’s name. One month ago, I called him.
Today he showed up while I was in Florence, Ala. attending the funeral of a family member.
He brought an army of equipment and proceeded to diagnose my illness as we carried on a conversation via cell phone. Thankfully, my son Braddock rushed over to give Lucky a tranquilizer and get the goods on these people.
He thinks they are reputable and that I should let them proceed to dig up my drive way and perhaps my yard. But he left the keys in his back hoe and I’m taking a ride around the block!