Pegasus
Ah, and to think I was a little lost for things to post on the blog. I should know now that "silence is golden" in more ways than one. When nothing is going on... that's not necessarily a "bad" thing.
Alycia was in town this weekend (good times: sangria, many many things to talk about, some mild shopping in Carytown and a nice breakfast send-off). Unfortunately, my good time ended abruptly when I decided to play with the kitchen sink...
Alycia noted that the sink handles turn in the wrong directions. "Yes," I said, "Rob installed it. In fact - check out how the spray hose doesn't work at all..."
I demonstrated. The hose dripped pathetically (it never has performed beyond a trickle) and I let go of the handle. The faucet should switch back on at this time. It didn't.
I, fearing that some hose would suddenly burst with the water pressure building [insert visual of Tom & Jerry here. Like the time they tied a garden hose in a knot causing a huge swelling... leading to a watery explosion], start screaming, "Rob! Rob! hurry!"
It didn't explode. It never turned back on either. Frustration gives way to annoyonce gives way to anger. Rob starts pulling out the series of Time Life Books we borrowed from my dad (yes, the collection from the early 80's. Great basic resource material, but let's get real here. What are the odds that any information given in there would apply to a faucet spicket from the 2000's?Same basic principles apply over time, yes, but I don't think all kitchen faucets were created equal. Ah yes, foreshadowing...)
Davis takes a look and, agreeing with Alycia's diagnosis, we remove this toggle/"T pipe" that seems to be the culprit. I offer to drive to Lowe's to find a new part. You can all see where this is going... a little while after staring at the aisles, a woman contractor offers to run me around the faucet aisle. She then proceeds to tear open boxes with her teeth telling me no one is ever available to help. She is opening up boxes looking for the same part so I can then learn the name of it and go from there. This isn't working and she eventually gives up on me. I call Rob to see what kind of brand name it is.
Pegasus.
"Did we get that at Home Depot?"
"I have no idea."
"Shit, I have to drive out there now, don't I? Why the hell did we buy 'Pegasus'? Who's THAT?"
I leave Lowe's but not before updating the contractor who asks, "Who the hell is Pegasus?"
Not a good sign when a contractor's never heard of it.
Home Depot.
Turns out Pegasus is the most expensive brand there (that's probably why I bought it - thinking it was good. What did I know? I bought it the week we bought the house. It looked so shiny and new I was drawn to it like a hummingbird admiring its reflection). It also turns out that they do not carry replacement parts (I'd have to call the company to mail me a part on Monday), that this is the higher level brand of Glacier Bay (Home Depot's brand) and the guy said its the most often returned company. He laughs, "I'd never recommend this to anyone!"
"Thanks alot."
I sulk off.
Actually, I call Rob ranting and raving and then I sulk off.
Frustrated, I tell Rob I am returning the whole thing. I find the box and the nearly completely faded receipt from the attic. Rob doesn't want me to take it apart (and he doesn't want to either for that matter). A stand off at the sink leads to me sending him out and me leaving this project for Monday. So, I start the fully laoded dishawsher instead.
"What are you doing?!."
"Dishes!"
To be fair, I did ask Rob if it was OK.
Turns out, it wasn't - its no longer hooked up to the sink.
Water gets turned off and on at this point - spraying all over Rob who's under the sink again.
I thought I was going to loose an appendage when I asked him if he needed any help.
Long story short - I end up having to wash a fully loaded dishwasher BY HAND. One full hour and at least 8 trips to the shower with a bucket... and the task was done.
I hate dishes. They are my one vice - I'd leave dirty dishes piled onto the floor if I knew I could get away with it. Most women hate dirty dishes. I hate washing dishes so much that I'll leave piles of them unclean for days. But, I also hate the ants that have seemingly taken up residence in my walls where I can't kill them. Therefore, I spent an hour cleaning. With a bucket.
Let this story be a lesson. Do not fuck around with things that are already not working right unless you have time on your hands. Never buy things simply cause they "look cool". And always ask the guy at the store which brand is most often returned for faulty parts.
Alycia was in town this weekend (good times: sangria, many many things to talk about, some mild shopping in Carytown and a nice breakfast send-off). Unfortunately, my good time ended abruptly when I decided to play with the kitchen sink...
Alycia noted that the sink handles turn in the wrong directions. "Yes," I said, "Rob installed it. In fact - check out how the spray hose doesn't work at all..."
I demonstrated. The hose dripped pathetically (it never has performed beyond a trickle) and I let go of the handle. The faucet should switch back on at this time. It didn't.
I, fearing that some hose would suddenly burst with the water pressure building [insert visual of Tom & Jerry here. Like the time they tied a garden hose in a knot causing a huge swelling... leading to a watery explosion], start screaming, "Rob! Rob! hurry!"
It didn't explode. It never turned back on either. Frustration gives way to annoyonce gives way to anger. Rob starts pulling out the series of Time Life Books we borrowed from my dad (yes, the collection from the early 80's. Great basic resource material, but let's get real here. What are the odds that any information given in there would apply to a faucet spicket from the 2000's?Same basic principles apply over time, yes, but I don't think all kitchen faucets were created equal. Ah yes, foreshadowing...)
Davis takes a look and, agreeing with Alycia's diagnosis, we remove this toggle/"T pipe" that seems to be the culprit. I offer to drive to Lowe's to find a new part. You can all see where this is going... a little while after staring at the aisles, a woman contractor offers to run me around the faucet aisle. She then proceeds to tear open boxes with her teeth telling me no one is ever available to help. She is opening up boxes looking for the same part so I can then learn the name of it and go from there. This isn't working and she eventually gives up on me. I call Rob to see what kind of brand name it is.
Pegasus."Did we get that at Home Depot?"
"I have no idea."
"Shit, I have to drive out there now, don't I? Why the hell did we buy 'Pegasus'? Who's THAT?"
I leave Lowe's but not before updating the contractor who asks, "Who the hell is Pegasus?"
Not a good sign when a contractor's never heard of it.
Home Depot.
Turns out Pegasus is the most expensive brand there (that's probably why I bought it - thinking it was good. What did I know? I bought it the week we bought the house. It looked so shiny and new I was drawn to it like a hummingbird admiring its reflection). It also turns out that they do not carry replacement parts (I'd have to call the company to mail me a part on Monday), that this is the higher level brand of Glacier Bay (Home Depot's brand) and the guy said its the most often returned company. He laughs, "I'd never recommend this to anyone!"
"Thanks alot."
I sulk off.
Actually, I call Rob ranting and raving and then I sulk off.
Frustrated, I tell Rob I am returning the whole thing. I find the box and the nearly completely faded receipt from the attic. Rob doesn't want me to take it apart (and he doesn't want to either for that matter). A stand off at the sink leads to me sending him out and me leaving this project for Monday. So, I start the fully laoded dishawsher instead.
"What are you doing?!."
"Dishes!"
To be fair, I did ask Rob if it was OK.
Turns out, it wasn't - its no longer hooked up to the sink.
Water gets turned off and on at this point - spraying all over Rob who's under the sink again.
I thought I was going to loose an appendage when I asked him if he needed any help.
Long story short - I end up having to wash a fully loaded dishwasher BY HAND. One full hour and at least 8 trips to the shower with a bucket... and the task was done.
I hate dishes. They are my one vice - I'd leave dirty dishes piled onto the floor if I knew I could get away with it. Most women hate dirty dishes. I hate washing dishes so much that I'll leave piles of them unclean for days. But, I also hate the ants that have seemingly taken up residence in my walls where I can't kill them. Therefore, I spent an hour cleaning. With a bucket.
Let this story be a lesson. Do not fuck around with things that are already not working right unless you have time on your hands. Never buy things simply cause they "look cool". And always ask the guy at the store which brand is most often returned for faulty parts.
posted by Brooke Ullman at 9:11 AM
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