It was early Saturday morning when I was told to make a service call to a house that was experiencing both a leak and clogged sink. The two usually don't go together, but half the time, the homeowner calling in doesn't have a clue and the other half of the time the dispatcher gets it all wrong.
I didn't care, it was just another house call and an easy fix—usually. Besides, I have already put in my 40 during the week and was now working a few hours of overtime.
I pulled up to the address and parked, then walked up to the door. The place was a quaint house, but nicely kept with potted flowers on the porch. I knocked and waited, since most people don't like the doorbell. After a minute, I rang the doorbell.
I looked around as I waited. The potted plants had water in the saucers below, having recently been watered. Something caught my ear which sounded like it was coming from the side of the house. There was no fence on the side yard, so I walked closer when I heard noise coming from inside. I couldn't make it out, but it was muffled sounds like someone in the distance talking; maybe a radio or TV. I walked a little further and looked into the side window. Between the crack of two curtains I could see a TV screen on the far wall. Cupping my eyes to block the reflection, I pressed up to see if anyone was inside when the image on the TV caught my eye. It was of a naked woman rubbing her pussy next to another woman. Damn, I thought to myself. Then I looked down and was surprised to see an ass bouncing and wiggling on the bed. It was fair skinned but very shapely leading up to a narrow waist with long hair trailing back down to the shoulder blades--the body of a woman. I watched for a minute and noticed her ass was positioned high, straddling a pillow. It was pretty hot and I could hear her muffled moans of pleasure as she stroked her pussy along the pillow.
After a couple minutes of watching, I pulled back, feeling a little uncomfortable eavesdropping and fearing that a neighbor or someone else living in the home would see me. I kind of hated to interrupt her, but I had a job to do and really couldn't hang out until she got off, although I'd like nothing more than to stand there and watch.
Now that I knew someone was home, I returned to the front door and pounded on it harder, hoping she would hear me this time. The sounds I heard earlier stopped and a minute later, a woman opened the door a little and stuck her head between the door and the frame. She was in her early 30s, with dark hair and fair skin.
"Yes?" She said with a blank look on her face.
"I'm here to fix your sink," I replied.
"You? Oh, yes. Ok. Come in," she said, as she opened the door. I could see that she was wearing some kind of nightgown or house dress which revealed her figure and two high points pointed on her chest.
I get the "You?" question quite often, usually from guys that think that all plumbers are middle aged men with pot bellies that bend over to reveal their "plumber's crack." They're often surprised to see a young woman, and a not-too-bad looking one at that, if I don't say so myself. My dad was a plumber and I grew up learning the business and hearing all the stories about the trade. So, when it came time to go to college, I chose a trade school where I could learn something practical rather than some worthless courses while racking up a $100k in student debt. There's good money to be made in the trades. Plus, I have a flexible schedule—not something you see in the 8 to 5 world.
I followed her into the kitchen looking down at her ass as she walked in front of me, thinking that was the same one grinding on the pillow minutes earlier. She led me into the kitchen and pointed to the sink where I saw the two doors under the sink open revealing a bare cabinet with some water on the bottom and all of the cleaners, soaps and what have you on the floor.
"The garbage disposal is clogged and its leaking." she said.
"Where's it leaking?" I asked.
"From one of the pipes under the sink," she replied.
No shit, I thought to myseIf, but her reply was typical of most homeowners who don't know whether water flows up or down.
I dropped down on my hands and knees and crawled over to the sink and looked at the piping. Nothing was obvious. I turned the collars on both ends of the P-trap and removed it. There was a little bit of scum inside but nothing unusual and it was not the source of the clog or leak. Next, I removed the white plastic pipe above. Holding it up to my eye, I couldn't see through it--something was blocking it.
"Do you have a small ladle or wood spoon?" I asked.
"Yes," she said as she moved from leaning against the counter to reaching over to a drawer to retrieve a large wood spoon.
I pushed the spoon into the pipe and out popped a nice white disk the diameter of the pipe and about 3/4" tall. I looked at it and smirked.
"Found the clog," I said.
"Really?" she replied. "What is it?"
"Grease," I said. Did you cook some meat? Maybe bacon or hamburger, then pour the grease down the drain?" I asked.
She thought for a minute then her face lit up. "Why yes! I cooked some Hamburger Helper last night and poured what was left in the skillet down the sink."
"Well, the skillet was full of grease. It hit the cold water and because it floats, solidified in the pipe, leaving a perfect plug," I said pointing to the grease stuck on the end of the wooden spoon.
"Really? If I had only known," she said.
"See it all the time. You're better off pouring the grease into a container, letting it harden then throwing it in the trash," I informed her. "Just make sure the container isn't plastic. It will melt with the hot grease."
"Ok. I'll do that next time," she said as if to say she was sorry.
I replaced the P-trap and pipe above, then rolled over on my back looking up near the pipes.
"Can you turn the sink on?" I said.
"Sure," she said, as she walked over to the sink and turned the water on.
