Each person has a fetish of his/her own. Some have shoe fetishes, some have handbag fetishes, some have canine fetishes, while some have feline fetishes.
I have a bathroom fetish.
I like my bathrooms squeaky clean, shining, shimmering, splendid.
So it was on one gloomy afternoon here in Gent, that I was happily cleaning our bathroom when I didn’t notice our toilet deodorizer slipping into a bubbly pit on its way down to oblivion. Unaware of the escape, I obliviously flushed the toilet with little regard for what I thought was a tiny transparent something sticking out amidst the suds. “Oh, it’s just bubbles.” I told myself.
A couple of hours later, in one of my random toilet trips, I noticed that the color of the toilet was turning blue. But this time, instead of blue dripping down, it was blue rising up! It was just then that I realized what had happened.
Not knowing what else to do, I just continued living a normal life that day. K came home and I told him what happened and we both just tried to be positive and hoped for the best.
But alas, positivity had no room for our hopes. After a couple of days, the most dreaded thing happened: Our toilet got clogged.
Though not to despair! Google had helped me before in dire circumstances and I had great faith that it would redeem me again. And so I Googled (and Youtubed—I move to propose that the latter be also made into a verb) the magic words: “How To Fix a Clogged Toilet”.
As expected, my surfing skills came up with several, ingenious options for us. I will not go into great detail as to what these selections were but oh, after extensive research and some equipment bought at a supply store, I was ready to become a plumber.
Now, plumbing isn’t as easy as it looks. On second thought, I take that back. I never thought plumbing was easy…doable, but definitely not easy. And after my first try, I unfortunately, had to give up. It is to be noted, however, that I am NOT a quitter. I just know my limits…and for plumbing, my abilities were merely good for one go (also, I feared making more damage than good). ;P
A couple of days later, it was K’s turn to put his plumbing skills to the test; but also to no avail. We were both not cut out to become plumbers, after all.
And so we had to submit to defeat, set our prides aside, and dial the dreaded plumber hotline to make an appointment. Two of them promptly showed up the next day.
I am always apprehensive about these Belgian servicemen (mailmen included) as I often feel as if it’s a “close encounters with the third kind” sort of thing. I have to speak Dutch and I’m always afraid I might say something incorrectly. “E.T. phone home!”.
So before they arrived, I made sure I had all my “visual aids” ready. I cleared some space in the bathroom so they would have more area for mobility, I put a sample of the same toilet deodorizer within reach, I put some paper towels on the floor, I set a bucket with a sponge nearby, and I made sure that whatever “not-so-miracle-after-all” stuff we poured down the toilet were within reach so the plumbers would be aware of what had already transpired.
They arrived on time (Europeans and promptness! Pfff… =) and immediately asked me what the problem was. I proceeded to explain what had happened and directed them to the bathroom for my presentation. Good thing I did not pull out my laptop. hehe
Again, I will not to expound on the plumber’s next moves but all I can say is that he was certainly (and nonchalantly) HANDS-ON when it came to doing his job!
He told me they had to get some equipment from their truck and so they went down and came back with an R2-D2 looking machine. Thinking that they needed some “privacy”, I decided to just loiter around the living room.
After one hour (including a cup of coffee and some paperwork), they were done. The whole ordeal made me so relieved (as the plumber said that our situation was dangerous in that the toilet thing (let’s call it “TD”) might have clogged up the pipes of the whole apartment, thus, affecting the flushing and draining capabilities of other units. I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if that happened…and all because of a small TD!!!). Although another thing wasn’t so pleasant afterwards—The bill.
The bill was a whopping 190 euros! Even if I don’t convert that to pesos that is A LOT here in Europe…and just for a TD!!! Okay, converted to pesos that is roughly 11,000php! I can send a kid to school with that amount of money! Or maybe even send one whole class to school WITH books!!! Now, now, Jacki don’t get carried away…
It made me feel so terrible. But then my bestfriend told me that in France, should you be in need of the services of a locksmith (you know the guy you turn to when you lock yourself out because you forgot your keys or you lost them?), that will cost you pretty much 2,000 euros—with three (3) zeros, and not just two (2)! That’s 118,000php!?!@#%
If time comes that I get locked out, I might as well hire a locksmith from my country. It’s much cheaper that way (fare included).
And when he goes to the Belgian embassy and gets asked the ultimate question: “Why are you going to Belgium?”
He would then answer: “Because a client of mine has locked herself out of her house.”
For 200 euros per job, I had wanted to become a plumber. But now I have found my life’s ambition and my bestfriend is also willing to discontinue her law practice for it….
We are off to become locksmiths!
This article is based on true events. Any resemblance to similar incidents or real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Overseas Filipino Wife 