Confessions of a Plumber – Jenny 25

 

[For back story go here: Story so far at 17 Sept 2020 especially the last one.]

[Cultural Reference Point: Adventures of...]

Sat in van, mask on, watching the world go by, Jenny decided even the trips between plumbing jobs were exciting and interesting. You saw the beats of the day progress, the way in which the city changed over time as people moved around. Even with reduced footfall to offices and along the bus routes, there was still something vital and alive about being out there, rather than behind a desk. And while they journeyed, Claire told her about her life in the trade.

“...Then there was the winter when every other call was frozen pipes. You couldn’t believe it, although to be honest the housing around here is all bit old so what do you expect? Not much insulation and a few places still on the old lead, you know? Don’t understand how they’ve got away with it for so long but no one’s replaced it and the thing about plumbing is that unless it makes noise or floods your house you really don’t care.

“So we go into this one house and literally there’s water coming out of the wall – like horizontally. The pipe’s in the wall and it’s fractured and this jet is coming out and landing in a bucket that the woman keeps emptying. 

“No alternative but to try and find the stop cock in the street. So we find it and it's a pretty ancient thing if I'm honest, and pretty crudded up so you can't just twist it off. So long story short we get a spanner to this cock and my mate's looking at me and this cock and he says either this'll work or the cock's gonna break and we'll be in a right mess."

"And..?"

"Shut off fine. Called up the water board to replace it. Job satisfaction, right there.”

They parked up overlooking a supermarket queue to have lunch. Jenny wondered at the scene noting how not only was the country apparently going backwards, but so was the general population, notably to the tune of panic buying.

"First job I was on with a plumber was really what I expected though. The bloke I was working with thought he was God’s gift and lots of women seemed to believe him too. So he’d go round places, fix stuff and charm them. I kept getting all these people saying how wonderful it must be to work for him and everything. Which is another bonus of working for yourself cos you don’t have to put up with all that rubbish.

“Anyway, we’re dealing with this boiler and central heating system and he said to me, “Can you hold on to these nuts?” and I did and it was just as well that I did because it meant we could put it all back together just fine and it work perfectly. Job satisfaction, right there.”

The duo had made their way through a few small jobs. Replacing pipes, taps and fixing leaks. The customers were generally pleased to see them, happy with their work, and slightly taken aback by the cost. But that was how it was. It was still a competitively priced service but really no one wanted to spend money on something they thought was avoidable.

"There was this one guy who was a right idiot. He said when he first booked the plumber he thought he'd better be in because he was expecting a male plumber and he didn't trust his wife. Then because I was a female plumber he said he changed his mind. He definitely wanted to be in.

“Anyway, he said the shower wasn’t the right temperature and there was a leak underneath the sink in the kitchen. I knew where this was going immediately, I could hear it in his voice, and it was just so boring and predictable. He had it all from asking me if I ever blew anyone’s valves through to going on about whether I’d like a hot shower and how he needed a cold shower. He even managed to ask if he could ‘turn me on’ when I needed to check the taps and water flow.

“So anyway, there’s this little screw on some compression valves that cut off the water supply, and you have to balance them right so they don’t leak. Balance them wrong and you get seepage. Small amount of water, just damp really, hardly see it, but let it go and eventually it'll get everywhere.

"So I’m working in the bathroom upstairs and he’s going on and on and on. And when I leave I tell him oh so sweetly that I’ve done my best and I hope it’s all going to work out for him, but, you know, there are some way more experienced male plumbers he could try. He says thanks, calls me love, and off I go.

“Two weeks later his ceiling comes down cos there’s this inexplicable damp patch. He calls me and I tell him I really sorry but I did my best. Sometimes you gotta make something happen, right? Job satisfaction, right there.”