My gag reflex is alive and kicking

 

 

I know. I know. It’s been a few weeks since I last posted after saying I’d attempt to get back into this, but I’ve had various bits of shit going on.

 

At the end of August, while recovering from a vicious bout of wtf-it’s-summer-why-have-I-got-a-feckin’-cold-spent-three-days-sleeping-it-off woman flu, I had a problem with the drain outside – the toilet making a strange gurgling noise after flushing alerted me there was some sort of trouble brewing.

 

After lifting the manhole cover outside the bathroom and finding it about an inch away from overflowing (gack), then lifting the second manhole cover a bit further down and finding it backed up and blocked with… um… solid matter (majorly big-time gack), I desperately tried to forget the images that were burnt onto my retinas, then hastily got on the phone and reported it to the water company:

 

Water Company Lady: Any young children in your household?

 

Me: No.

 

Water Company Lady: Any elderly or ill people in your household?

 

Me: (Sigh) No.

 

Water Company Lady: Well, we’ll send someone out as soon as we can, but it could be up to twelve hours before they get to you.

 

Me: (Pffffft) Okay.

 

Water Company Lady: I suggest you try and limit the use of the toilet.

 

Me: (No shit, Sherlock (hahahaa, ‘no shit…’ geddit?)) Uh-huh.

 

Seven, yes, seven hours later a man from the water company knocked on my door. I pointed out where the manhole covers were, then stepped back when he lifted one. Having already seen the contents earlier in the day, I was in total sympathy when he grimaced.

 

Anyway, to cut the story short and to save you all the disgustingly gory details, all I’ll say is that:

 

a) the blockage was caused by next door

 

b) I learnt the true meaning of the words ‘foul stench’

 

and

 

c) after seeing what he did with rods and a hose with the contents of the drain, I won’t be eating soup or stew anytime soon.

 

When I was later recounting the day to a friend, he asked if I’d flirted with the water company man as, “…you flirt with everyone.” (FYI, I don’t consider it flirting; as far as I’m concerned, I’m being friendly – I’ll talk to virtually anyone. It’s not my fault it’s misconstrued as flirting. Is it?)

 

My reply?

 

“It’s a bit hard to flirt with a bloke when he’s literally looking at your shit!”