So the Poo Poo Palace has a bit of a plumbing issue. My rental unit (a.k.a. Den of the Chef) has a bathroom. (This, apparently, is law. I guess you can’t rent someone a cement cell with nothing more than a chamber pot. I, as a newly minted slum lord, am in to oppressing tenants.) At any rate, the bathroom had a nasty old vanity in it. Joe and I were ripping it out when we discovered the walls behind it were a bit soft… like t-shirt material soft. We explore a bit. To our horror, we discover that the numbskulls who installed the vanity drove a nail into the drain, thus cracking the drain and causing an undiscovered leak… a very damaging one.
Enter Kenny the Plumber. I am at the new place one day. I am upstairs writing some pl/sql in German (more on that later.) One of the, in all likelihood illegal, immigrants who were painting my house comes running upstairs quite excited:
Painter: “Meester Glazer, there is a man.”
What a truly deep thought. So I follow him downstairs to discover a guy that looks like a character actor whose name I forgot. Short white dude. Tattoos. Earrings.
Plumber: “I’m the plumber.”
Did I mention the Lenox Lewis look-a-like assistant who didn’t say a word? That would be, I later learn, Joey. Joey was far more eloquent that Kenny.
Ian: “The plumber?”
Plumber: “Yeah.”
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