It's The Plumber...

...I've come to fix the sink.

No, this is not a post about bicycles.

Yesterday there was water under the washing machine and food all around the floor drain and the laundry standpipe in the basement.  Weird.  We never eat in the basement.

Today, being a great plumber, I turned on the water in the kitchen sink, and sure enough, the water backed up and out of the laundry standpipe downstairs.  Real plumbers have real snakes.  Mine is really short, the type you turn by hand and get all that sewer grime and grease on your palms that never come off.  The solution, you ask?  I attached my cordless drill to the tag end and started rootering the standpipe.  I got past the trap but not to the clog.  Next, I went to the kitchen sink, removed the trap, and inserted my snake.  No luck.  Next, I went up on the roof and inserted my short snake down the pipe.  Again, no good.  Did I say how steep my roof is?  Old men like me do not like steep roofs.

At this point I was ready to call a professional.  When you call a real plumber, you might as well hand them $200 just for getting out of their truck.  A real power snake would cost more.  Gloves would be nice too.  That would include a trip to Lowe's and another two hours of dirty hands.  So, I gave up.  I called.  I paid.  He had a longer snake.