Plumbing Problems

One night early in the St. Croix week, we decided to go to K-Mart to buy tweezers. B. purchased a party-sized bag of Doritos and a big box of beer. As soon as we got home, he ate fists-full of Doritos and drank several cans of beer. He was careful to throw out each used can before replacing it with another. Early the next morning, and virtually every subsequent morning, B. suffered incredible gas attacks, allegedly (according to him) from major consumption of Heineken the nights prior, and he would leap out of bed and disappear down the hall, apparently to close himself into the bathroom in the other bedroom so as not to offend me. The first morning, I had to cover my face with a pillow so he wouldn't hear me laugh. After a while, though, I realized, of course, that being human, we all suffer these humiliations occasionally. (Despite this new revelation, I would have been horrified if he had heard me fart first thing in the morning.) Within a couple of days, I had become so used to his morning ritual that I barely noticed (and possibly even slept through it once or twice). I even became used to his snoring. Lo and behold, I was becoming used to everything. I even became used to the idea that I was angry at him twenty-fours a day. But just when I had made the adjustments necessary to make it peacefully through the week with B., the real plumbing problems began.

One day, we dsicovered that we had no running water in the house. I telephoned the owners, Sue and her son, Nathaniel. Sue said she was "so very, very, very sorry" and promised to summon the plumber at once. No one showed up. I called Sue again and she acted surprised. "Really? Are you sure he didn't come while you were out?" To satisfy her, we checked the faucets and the toilets. "Well, Sue," I said, clenching my legs together "since we were out of the house for a while, I can't say with certainty that the plumber wasn't here. But we have no running water." She then suggested I hand the phone to B., a man, so she could tell him how to get water into the house. He took the phone and disappeared outside. Fifteen minutes later, he returned, complaining that his thumbs hurt from having to push something down for a long time. We still had no water I got used to repeatedly telephoning Sue and having to listen to her profound apologies and explanations ("I am so, so, so very, very, very sorry about this." "This is an island, you know. Things are different here." "The plumber still hasn't shown up? I don't understand. Are you sure? He assured me he would be there in four to seven hours." "Since the plumber hasn't returned our phone calls, Nathaniel is getting into his car right now to see if he can physically track him down."). Just another day in paradise.

B. sometimes peed outside, facing the ocean. At least he could do that. I would have to walk along the beach to the Hibiscus "resort" (some resort....we saw rats by the dumpsters....and there literally wasn't one piece of fruit on the premises because, according to the chef, it was too expensive to buy fruit) just to use the Ladies' Room. Actually, it was pretty good in there. I could lock the door and relax a bit. The water in the bowl was blue. Nice. When I peed, it turned green. And in case I had to fart, I knew B. couldn't hear. Still, I missed the convenience of having a working toilet in our own house, but what can you do....yet another adjustment I cheerfully made.

One morning, Nathaniel appeared in our doorway. He told us he was going to try to fix the plumbing problem himself, at least see what he could do. We were on our way out. He told us he'd lock up. When we returned, we discovered that he had made our bed and tastefully arrayed some of my personal belongings on top of the comforter on my side of the bed. Books and dirty panties that had been in a small pile on the floor. We wondered about this....why would Nathaniel do this....not sure if it aroused any suspicion in B.--although we joked about it because we had been wondering if Nathaniel was gay--but either way, I decided that if Nathaniel wanted to smell my panties, I just hoped he enjoyed himself. Oh, what the hell.

Another morning, B. went to breakfast without me because I was unable to shower or pee. Naked on the bed, in disarray and with sagging spirits, I telephoned Sue again. "The plumber still hasn't been there yet. Really?" I told her I understood she was "so very sorry" and all that, but I needed some running water right away. She told me to put B. on. I told her he wasn't there.....his absence piqued her curiosity. I'm not sure why, but she asked where he was. I thought of making up a good story, but I wasn't up to it (because my spirits were sagging) (and I was naked) (and in disarray), so I told her he had gone to breakfast, that he needed coffee immediately. She asked if I was "capable" of going outside to get the water going. I said I'd give it a try. So I put the phone down, threw my red robe on, picked up the cell phone and went outside without even tying the robe. Well, lucky me, there were two men out there by the horse, so I quickly clutched my robe together, but the shock of the bright sun nearly blinded me, so I let go of the robe to shield my eyes. Obviously, I couldn't wave to the men at that point, but I think I somehow greeted them anyway. So then Sue, still on the phone, told me to go over to the house next door and guided me through a procedure which required me to go into the garage, pull out some plugs, follow the blue cord, flip a switch, blah, blah....and then go back outside to the side of that house, pull some levers, turn a faucet, etc. and "that should do it. Now go back into your house and tell me if the water is on." The men by the horse stared and waved (by that time, I had actually tied my robe but realized that I had unintentionally flashed them a few minutes earlier.....I really had to pee), so I smiled at them and went back into the house. Eureka! We had water. I thanked her and ran for the bathroom.

On the last morning, a plumber did appear. He had the darkest skin I've ever seen. Spoke to B. as if it we owned the house. The toilet in the bedroom had run the whole time we were there (I thought it rained every night.....), so while I lay on the bed half-dressed, telephoning the rental car place repeatedly (because they kept putting me on hold while my cell phone was "roaming," and that really pissed me off), the plumber worked on the toilet in the bathroom. (Apparently, as I had previously and cheerfully made all the necessary adjustments, modesty, too, had gone out the window.) Turned out, part of the toilet's insides had to be replaced, and the part that he brought with him was too contemporary or something. The men discussed this at some length, and I thought to myself, "Hmmm....who knew B. was so handy with these things?" Even though I was still angry at him, I was sort of impressed with his knowledge of ball cock assemblies. Who knew? B. is just full of surprises.