I’m not cheap, I’m frugal!

Tuesday afternoon, February 15, it sucked to be me.

I got home and decided to rake some more leaves. I changed clothes and put a load of laundry in the washer. I then decided to check the computer for e-mail (procrastination to be sure). While downloading new messages I heard a gurgling coming from the bathroom across the hall. The toilet was emitting burp-like bubbles and was filling. The adjacent tub was also filling up. I knew right off this was bad. “Oh shit”, no pun intended. Turn off the washer. Rush to the phone to call the landlord. No, wait. There is no landlord. Homeownership can really suck (I’ll refrain from using that word for the remainder of this particular essay).

Instead, I call my friend who can fix anything. He has the tools and equipment I need to fix my plumbing. I’m sure as hell not calling a plumber. It’s cheaper to pay for brain surgery by the hour at 5:00 pm in the afternoon that call the plumber. I have another friend who calls me cheap. I argue that I’m just frugal. I rush over to get the stuff and then back to the house to start work. I wisely stop at the liquorteria on the way back for a six-pack of liquid inspiration.

I get back to the house with most of the stuff I need and a five-pack. Get the ladder. Up to the roof with plumber’s snake and 200 feet of charged garden hose; just imagine the logistics. Jam snake down vent stack. Twist it around. I notice the sky is darkening. Jam the hose down the stack. Turn it on. Pull it up and jam it back down quickly. Do my neighbors think I’m a lunatic or do they just wonder what I’m up to tonight? I hear gurgling from the vent. Still full of “water”. “OH SHIT”. Drop the snake to the back yard. Shove 200 feet of garden hose off the roof and climb down.

I get into the dark scary place where the spiders live under the house with my flashlight. I have three five-gallon buckets and a big wrench. Open the “clean out” at the end of the sewer pipe and release about twelve gallons of “water”. I’m now a one-man fire brigade, rushing one bucket out of the dark place and filling its replacement. Once more with the snake and hose combination. Forty feet into the pipe and the implements stop. The blockage. In and out, in and out. I’m feeling lucky so I close things up and go into the house to make a test. Turn the water in the tub on. “OH SHIT” (is there an echo in here?).

Clean up a little and jump in the truck for a 45 minute round trip (more on this at another time) to Home Depot for $32 dollars worth of stuff. Drain the pipe again. You remember, the bucket brigade? Once more into the fray! I attach the flush bulb to the hose and let ‘er rip. No break through. I saw a seven-inch piece of pipe out of the sewer line. Now I’m only fifteen feet from the blockage. Once more with the snake. Progress, I seem to be able to work the snake into and through the enemy. Flush bulb back on the hose and let ’er rip again. No water. The sound of free flowing water comes from the pipe. Eureka!

I’m down to a four-pack now. I repair the sewer pipe by installing a new clean out. I seal everything back up. I clean up all the hoses, tools, snakes, and buckets. I wait. Has the glue around the new plumbing set up enough to introduce water? Three-pack. I gingerly turn on the water in the tub, slowly at first. Then full blast. I check the other tub to make sure. No new “water”. Two-pack. Clean the bathrooms. Clean me. 9:30 pm. One-pack. Crash.

I got up the next morning and every muscle in my body shrieked in excruciating pain. Two ibuprofen. Into the shower. Have you ever prayed while taking a shower? I have. Everything is now flowing in the proper direction.

I’m not cheap, I’m frugal. It only cost me five and a half hours, fifty or so miles on my truck, $32 worth of plumbing supplies, and two ibuprofen. Oh, and a five-pack. Plus, my bathrooms are spotlessly clean!