MORE WATERSPORTS Just so you

MORE WATERSPORTS

Just so you have the full picture:

Monday morning: K went to have a shower, pulled up the stopper on the tub tap which activates the shower. The stopper came right out. Rusted and broken. Hence, no showering. Since then we've (at least I''ve) been 'showering' as I imagine an ape would: crouched naked on honches, flicking water at myself in an attempt to get all parts saturated. To prove that I have risen beyond the mentality of Ape, I fill up an empty Becel Margerine dish with water and pour it over me. Repeat, repeat, rinse. (A bath is out of the question for me, mostly because of my body length.)

Tuesday night: you have the basics of that story below. What I didn't add to that tale was this: at 11:30 that night, moments before the 'rust never sleeps' incident, yours truly experienced, for perhaps the third time that night, some rather severe stomach cramps, due mostly to a too-hot masala dish he made for himself at supper. Rushing to the facility, I noticed the drip drip dripping from below the tank. Stomach cramping, I stopped to inspect the dripping. It was then that I discovered the rusty bolt, which basically disintegrated in my hand, and which started the water flowing. The cramping I momentarily willed away. However, afterwards, with catastrophe diverted, and all water in the house turned off, the cramping came back. What to do? It's 11:45 at night. The toilet is devoid of water, the floor isn't. I contemplate 'going' outside. I decide against that (I'm not an ape. I'm not) and instead hop in the car and motor off to find a convenience store. Inconveniently, any near me were closed at that hour. I live in Winsloe. I found refuge at the Petro Canada on the corner of University and Belvedere. I know, I know, there were probably other options open to me, but with a cramped stomach and a fevered brain (okay, the brain wasn't fevered, but I'm looking for sympathy) riding off into the midnight was all I could come up with.

Wednesday morning: so, we've had the shower-stopper rust off; we've had the toilet tank bolt rust off. What's that thing about things happening in threes? Here I was, this very morning, revisiting the services of my old friend who was once again working thanks to my temporary nut and bolt job the night before, reminding it of the too-hot masala dish I ate the night before. K and CB are out in the car, waiting for me to finish my visit. All is well. I reach for the two-ply and whooosh, all is not well. For you un-plumbed people, there is a pipe that comes out of the wall and into the toilet tank. This pipe carries water to said tank. When this pipe breaks, much water pours out quickly. Actually it doesn't pour out. It hisses out, furiously, in all directions. I, being a fast-actin' tenactin, rush out of the bathroom, trou's at ankles, and down the stairs to shut off the main water valve. Water again all over the floors, late for work, etc. etc.

Anyway, it's night and all is fixed and there'll be no more water problems.