Plumbers and their bling · Posted Jun 5, 09:11 AM by Todd Babiak
I phoned a plumber yesterday. Our hot water tank has a slow leak, and I discovered its source. There is a valve that needs replacing. The notion of replacing a valve on a pressurized container connected to a natural gas line makes me want to crawl into a closet and rock back-and-forth, and chant in Estonian, so I called a plumber.
“____ Plumbing,” said the woman. I had found her company in the yellow pages. It marketed itself as a low-cost alternative to those OTHER plumbers. The seniors’ friend. I am not a senior, but I like seniors. Especially ones that overdress for occasions like walking their dogs. It makes me want to run out and tackle them and kiss them.
I told her my problem. It’s a common one. The part costs $57 plus tax, she said. But the service call was $271.00.
“How long does it take to fix?”
Less than half an hour, usually. They’re in and out. Lickety split. Unless there’s a larger concern, then you’re looking at higher labour and more for parts. Maybe even a new tank. But the moment the plumber walks through the doors, the metre is ticking.
The service call amount, $271, was just that: the cost of entering a house.
Of course, I wanted to ask for her home address, so I could let the air out of her tires and shove a dozen rotten apples into her exhaust pipe, maybe teach her children that God is dead. But I am too nice for my own good.
“Is that what plumbers make an hour?” I said. “That’s over $2,000 a day.”
She sighed. There was a sense of grievance in her sigh. “Here we go,” was the subtext of her sigh, “another prick who thinks my husband isn’t worth $271 an hour.”
They were very busy, she said. Did I want to make an appointment for late next week?
I began chanting in Estonian.
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