My sister Marcy has been dreaming about pipes. Fixed pipes. The kind where water runs through and nothing leaks. Where you turn on faucets and there’s both cold and hot water. And when you turn them off nothing leaks. Our little family restaurant “Marcy Jo’s“ has never had those. For the past seven years, they’ve only had the jury-rigged, taped together, leaky kind of pipes. Part pvc, part pex, part cpvc… all broken now by the single-digit temps we had a few days ago. I put in the first bunch of piping when we first opened in 2006 or so. My brother-in-law Donny put in some more. Then a restaurant customer (and our good friend) Thomas put in a bunch of the others. They work for awhile. But then they start leaking. Always. We’ve all fixed them, or tried to fix them, at one time or another. But this time almost all the pipes froze and shattered. In the bathrooms. In the hallway. Behind toilets. Under sinks.
I think maybe the pipes all bursting was a blessing in disguise. It’s too much for us to fix. Had to call someone else.
We met a plumber down at the restaurant this morning. A real plumber. One that does this for a living. Who probably has been to plumbing school, or is part of a family business, or something… who knows how to put water pipes together for real. Who knows the difference between all the , thingy’s and doohickeys and what white, or tan colored, or clear pipe is. His name was Darren. He said he could fix us up and have it all done by tomorrow evening. That sounded good to Marcy. He said it would be $1400. That didn’t sound good to Marcy. He’ll be there at 8 am in the morning.
I think I’m gonna come hang around some and see if I can learn to be a plumber. Or a plumber’s helper. Or a guy who watched a real plumber once.
Really I just need to learn enough to be better at fixing our pipes at home when they freeze and break again, because I know they will. It’s just a matter of time… and temperature… and water pressure.