The Plumber and the Virgin I needed some plumbing work done at Camp Tumalo, and while I have able and willing remodelers in John, Dustin, and Josh, this job was beyond them. Accordingly, I scheduled a visit from a professional plumber. If you are a dedicated reader of my Facebook posts you probably saw the post I put up about Virgin, and Julia’s explanatory reply. If you missed that, here is some brief background information. Many moons ago Julia had a friend named Virginia who, when they would go shopping together, had the ability to vanish seemingly in a puff of smoke. Since this was decades before cell phones were even thought of, this often involved long and frustrating searches. After many failed admonitions, Julia vowed to get even. The next time her friend vanished, Julia went up to the customer service desk and asked that they page Virgin Hutchison. Of course several people stopped dead in their tracks to see who came forward, and sure enough, a few minutes later, her friend came to the front of the store, scarlet-faced and giggling. Well, I’ve been teasing Julia about vanishing, and referring to her as Virgin. We went back and forth with this several times, giggling. She got even with me for putting that on Facebook. She didn’t intend to. She didn’t even know she was doing it. But it was payback time, and then some, this morning. Last night we scheduled her to arrive, bearing cleaning supplies and lump sugar, for the dual purpose of helping me do a thorough clean and accustoming my son John’s new Quarter Horse broodmare (who is expecting) to being around people. We would spend much of the day on this project, and she would probably stay the night. Julia asked me if morning or afternoon arrival would be better for me, and I said morning, so she said she would call me when she started on her way. Fine. The plumber arrived bright and early and inspected the job. He cheerfully agreed to giving me a written estimate, and he used the only available space to prop his clipboard on, which was a corner of the kitchen counter, between the dishwasher (which was running) and the washer and dryer (both of which were running). In other words, there was a fair amount of background noise. I had laid my cell phone on the counter to be readily available if Julia should call, and sure enough, she chose that particular moment to punch in my number. Given the sounds from all three machines, I punched speakerphone when I answered her call and shoved the sound all the way to the maximum, assuring myself of volume sufficient to be heard across a baseball diamond. Julia, obviously having plotted in advance to deliver a line that ordinarily would have made me burst out laughing, did not bother with the usual hellos. Instead, she announced in an official-sounding tone, “Your virgin will arrive in an hour, as you ordered, prepared to spend the night with you.” And then she disconnected. The plumber, who was about two feet from my phone, froze. He looked up and goggled at me, obviously doing a rapid and unfavorable reassessment of both me and the desirability of taking on this job. It was plain that he now thought this respectable-looking older woman was more than a little bit kinky. Well, this was a situation that explanations could only make worse. Besides, from the expression on his face, I was pretty sure he wouldn’t believe a word I said. I was some sort of deviant, and that was that. He handed me the estimate, said it would be quite some time before he would be able to do this job and I might want to consult someone else, and got out the door so fast that he forgot his clipboard. It isn’t easy to peel out when your truck is parked in mud, but this guy managed, spraying the surrounding area with a shower of wet dirt. I think I am going to have to call a different plumber. And when Julia does get here I am going to assassinate her.
Posted on: Tue, 20 Jan 2015 18:36:27 +0000
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