L U N A T A L K with Eva Moon

How Not to Plumb

June 16, 2009 on 4:20 pm | | In General Musing

Today’s Lesson: How to Turn a $5 Gasket into a $360 Emergency Plumbing Bill

Our upstairs hall toilet sprung a leak recently. We don’t use it much, so I just turned off the water at the cutoff and went about my business. But we have visitors arriving shortly and it occurred to me that access to a loo that didn’t involve traipsing through our bedroom might be appreciated by all parties.

The leak was in the back, between the tank and the seat. A simple gasket, a friend assured me. Off I went to Home Depot where yes indeed, Mr. Orange Apron handed me a little bag with a gasket and some screws and washers and assured me that was what I was looking for. He didn’t ask what kind of toilet I had, so I figured they must be standard. We certainly don’t have an exotic commode. $5.08 with tax. Take that, plumber!

Back at home, I shoehorned myself in by the tub, unscrewed the tank, lifted it off, put it back, unscrewed the water line, lifted it up again, dumped water on the floor and followed the instructions on the gasket bag, step-by-step. Soon, and with entirely acceptable levels of cursing and shouting, the toilet was reassembled.

I turned on the water… and a steady stream cascaded onto the floor.

I turned off the water.

I could still hear a little hiss, like it wasn’t all the way off, but it looked like it was off. I unscrewed the hose. The water wasn’t all the way off - a steady trickle leaked out of the hose. I turned the handle a little harder. No change. Harder. The water started coming out of the hose faster. I turned it the other way. No change. Turned it back. The stream increased.

Suddenly, a toilet gasket was the least of my problems. I had no idea where the water cutoff was for the house. I ran to the phone and called the first plumber in the yellow pages that said 24×7 emergency service, grabbed a couple of bowls and raced back upstairs. Where I sat for over an hour, bailing water into the tub at the rate of one bowl every 30 seconds or so. I believe that actually counts as a workout.

The plumber finally arrived, assessed the damage, confirmed that I had broken the cutoff, pointed out I had the wrong gasket (thank you Mr. Orange Apron) and informed me that it would be $300. Plus tax. $300? What was he going to do? Gold plate the tap? But when your universe has contracted to two Tupperware bowls, cramped arms and a pile of soggy towels, you’re in no position to tell him you’ll keep shopping. They know this.

In no time, he had the water off and was busy doing plumberly things. A period of time so short as to make me wonder why I didn’t go into plumbing as a career passed and he called me in for the ritual of turning on of the water. The bathroom was once again a bathroom and not a household salvage yard and the floor was even reasonably dried off. OK, maybe it was worth it.

He turned on the water… and a steady stream cascaded onto the floor.

He turned off the water.

After a little fiddling, he decided that the overflow assembly had a bad gasket too. What are the chances? “You might as well go get a new toilet.” he said.

“A new toilet?”

“Well my labor to fix the overflow assembly will be about $100 and you can get a whole new toilet for $80″

“I can get an overflow assembly for eight bucks.”

Pause.

“Well, if you can to do that, I guess so.”

“Yes. Just leave it. I’ll take care of it.” (After all, I’d done so well with the $5 gasket.)

He looked at the toilet. “I’ll take the tank off for you.”

“Thank you.”

He hemmed and hawed and fiddled a bit. “I’ll take out the old assembly so you only have to put in the new one.”

“Thank you.”

More fidgeting. The sight of the disassembled toilet was clearly working on him. I will give him credit for that much professional attitude.

He finally sighed, unable to walk out and leave it, “I’ll just put the new assembly in already. I’ll only charge you for the part.”

How kind of him not to add another $100 onto my $300 bill for the 20 minutes he’d spent here.

“Thank you,” I said.

A few minutes later, it was all done, the check written ($360.80 with tax and the extra part) and half the day gone. But the toilet works. I’m not sure if I want my guests using it. I might turn it into a shrine.

It reminded me of an old song.

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