GOOCHONLINE - Since 1999

I actually bid on this: Jerry Seinfeld Chewed Gum

Had a great weekend. I actually met my weight loss goal I'd set for Friday, so I indulged in the prime rib at Roadhouse. I hadn't gone back there since the gay guy incident (see last blog), but I couldn't let an event like that leave a bad taste in my mouth.


So I had a slow draining sink and on Sunday, while driving to a Super Bowl party, I turned my car around because I was paranoid that I'd left that sink running and that I'd come home to a flooding house. When I got back home, of course, there was no flooding. I went to the party without incident.

Yesterday (Monday) I brushed my teeth and hopped in the shower in my upstairs bathroom (as opposed to the downstairs bathroom, which doesn't exist - it's important to the story later). I turned off the shower and grabbed a towel to dry. Even though the shower was off, I heard running water. I opened the shower curtain to reveal my worst fucking fear: I'd left the sink on when I brushed my teeth and water was in fact cascading over the sink and onto the floor where an inch of water stood. I quickly said a bad word and grabbed a bunch of towels I've stolen from various Vegas and Reno hotels and threw them on the small pool that had formed (after, of course, turning the faucet off).

I'd soaked up the water from the bathroom floor. Instead of silence, however, I was met with - the sound of running water. It was coming from downstairs.

I said another bad word. I went down to the kitchen, which is right below the bathroom, and found water flowing through my flourescent light fixture and half into the sink and half onto the floor. I turned the light off, as nothing makes your balls shrink faster than a watching water flow through an electrified device connected to your place of residence. I put more towels (two from the Monte Carlo and one from the Bellagio, as I recall) down to soak up that water and a pot to catch the water still coming through the ceiling.

I'd simply kept forgetting to buy Drano or some similar product because I haven't used a list to go shopping since 2002 and the urgency for such an item was diminished by the idea that leaving a faucet running was a concept I'd left behind when I was three and flooded the family home (unfortunately a true story that my Dad readily mentions whenever money or emergency home repairs or large purchases of carpet comes into the conversation). Alas, I didn't have the Drano, didn't unclog the sink, and the events transpired.

So I went to the store yesterday after work and bought drano. I went home to what appeared to be a refugee camp for wet towels and poured the caustic solution into the offending drain. I opened the cabinet to put the bottle away for future use and couldn't believe what was facing me:

A nearly full bottle of Drano purchased six months ago when, as I recall, this happened before (without the flooding). I said a bad word.

I think it was "fuck."