This morning I’ve blown my bathroom sink apart.
It is quite a surprise.
Here’s how it goes.
I have an art deco type, fluted glass sink. It sits on top of the tiled bathroom counter and is pleasing to look at. It is moulded to look like a huge, luminous blue flower rising open-mouthed toward the indifferent burnished copper faucet above it.
The sink was very expensive. It makes a statement. It makes the bathroom. It’s a beautiful and wondrous and overpriced extravagance but everybody needs at least one outrageous, nonsensical, illogical extravagance don’t you think?
I have to stand on my toes to use this sink and even then I often clank my elbows on its undulating glass edges.
Its lithe inner neck is attached to a pipe and hidden under the countertop but like an unrelenting sinus condition the pipe is always clogged.
The sink is a gorgeous delicate Being, but I don’t like it. It is uncomfortable to use and it barely drains. Nothing I’ve used clears the blockages and I’ve even used human plumbers.
This morning I have had enough of the sink’s peculiarities and quirks. I have in hand a very large jug of poison gel that is guaranteed to scrub clean the most recalcitrant pipes.
The instructions say to pour the burning goo down the drain and let it sit for one half hour. Then I am instructed to run hot water down the pipe.
This is a problem.
I can never get the water to run long enough to get it hot enough because the water won’t drain from the beautiful sink. The water fills to the brim and then sits sullenly, threatening to rush over the lips of the blue beauty.
But…suddenly, I have an excellent and even brilliant idea. I will heat the water on the kitchen stove and pour that down the drain. (more…)