Twas a week ago yesterday that the latest journey into the Art of Lames began.
I started the day off well. I finally rolled out of bed early enough to make it to work by 8:00. Since I leave at the same time everyday anyway, this meant I might actually work a full 8 hours. (Hi boss, just kidding!)
Before heading to the car, I remembered the water bill was due the next day. And since we leave in the sticks, we’re required to read our own water meter (no cheating, the water company reads it once a year themselves). I dropped my work stuff off in the car, walked out to the front yard, and took off the cover to reveal the giant hole in the ground that contained the meter.
I’d left the bill with my other things, so I memorized the numbers. I walked back, climbed into the drivers seat, found a pen and the bill, and started to write the number down.
Only… something wasn’t right.
Last month’s reading was somewhere in the range of 1140000. The month before was around 1135000.
The number I wrote down was about 1670000.
Obviously I’d misread. Out of the truck, back to the meter. It probably said 1167000. I’d just misread. Still alot of water, but what can you do?
Once again I read the meter.
Then a third time.
Then I notice the dial up at the top of the meter spinning. “The dishwasher is running,” I say to myself. So I go into the house to shut it off.
Back out to the meter. Still spinning away. It makes a revolution about one-and-a-half times per minute.
I walk back inside the house to find now water running anywhere. Nothing outside I could see, so I shut off the water to the entire house.
Back out to the meter. Still spinning. No slowdown.
I frantically call the water company and explain that water is leaking somewhere and we’re losing a gallon-and-a-half a minute. They tell me they’re on the way.
Back out to the meter. Still spinning. It’s this time I notice that that little dial marks 10 gallons per revolution. We’re losing 15 gallons a minute. It occurs to me to do the math on the bill.
We’d lost over 528,000 gallons of water in the last month. Five-hundred and twenty-eight thousand. Gallons. Of water.
Let’s put that in perspective. See this water tower in Clanton, Alabama?
It looks like a peach. It also holds 500,000 gallons of water. If we lived in Clanton, they’d be out of water. But we would also have peaches.
I digress.
A few hours after the water was shut off at the meter, the plumber arrived. A look around led them to believe that yup, there was probably a leak (although only one small patch of ground that looked “too wet” gave us any evidence).
“We might be able to come back tomorrow to fix it,” they said.
“Not today?” we replied.
“Nope, need a Bobcat. And there’s a big water line break at the school. We’ll probably be there tomorrow.”
“Fan-f*cking-tastic.”
“We’ll leave you this key so you can turn your water on and off at the meter. Just remember you’re using 15 gallons a minute when you turn it on.”
“Really? Ya think?”
“Well, maybe we can make it out tomorrow.”
“That’d be nice.”
And off they went.
After a night of no water (it was on long enough for a VERY fast shower), it rained the entire next day. No plumbers.
Finally, on Friday morning they arrived. They spent several hours taking out a hydrant and moving it up the water line to the opposite side of where they thought the leak might be.
Once finished, it was back to the meter. Water on. And the spinning continued.
“Shit,” I declared.
The plumbers concurred.
Further searching (by “searching” I mean poking holes in the ground to see what happened) and we struck a geyser.
“Well, that’s probably you’re other leak.”
“You guys are smart.”
More digging revealed a busted joint. Easily fixed within an hour or two.
The problem was finally solved.
But, what was the problem?
“Oh, this joint? The pipes that connected to it weren’t 90 degrees from each other. It just wore out.”
“Not 90 degrees? There’s a shock… considering I’ve never found a 90 degree angle in this ENTIRE EFFING HOUSE!”
I think the plumber sensed my bitterness. They quickly left.
But not before noticing the propane smell where the gas line entered the house…
See? It shocked you, too.
