So, you guys remember Beezus, right? Our beloved apartment? There was a brief and beautiful time when nothing was more than a tiny bit broken. It was wonderful and freeing and glorious.
And then it came crashing down around us and thus began the sink chronicles.
It started with a simple drainage problem. Sometimes, when you’d been doing dishes for a minute or two, the water would stop draining and start pooling up in the sink and coming up the other side. Not too big a deal, but slightly inconvenient. We put in a work order when the pooling happened more quickly than the washing, in an effort to make our lives a little better.
That was all fine and good. Except that it happened again. And again.
Eventually, the maintenance man said “Excuse me!” after he had fixed the sink. He proceeded to explain to me, as if I were a child, that we did not have a garbage disposal and that we shouldn’t put food down the sink. Which ended our previous habit of feeding the sink monster in order to appease it (I hope you can detect my sarcasm here).
We were even MORE careful than we had been before about not putting food down the sink. And yet, the sink was not appeased. It continued to fail pretty epically at all things sink-related. So we put in another work order. This time we were out when the maintenance man came, but that didn’t stop him! He STOLE one of my sticky notes and USED MY PEN to leave us a passive aggressive note about not putting food down the sink.
We started scraping all our dishes out with paper towels into the trash can before we washed them in our KITCHEN SINK. But, alas, the sink monster was STILL not satisfied. Things continue to get worse, the water pooling up with greater frequently and occasionally the sink sings us the song of its people and regurgitates massive amounts of water and whatever else happens to live inside our sink, resulting in a disgusting mess that re-dirties the dishes that were innocently drying in the drainer on the other side of the sink.
The other night, in a rage that only I could summon, I stormed out of our apartment with a giant bowl full of water that I had been TRYING to dump for the past several hours. Wearing my overly baggy short shorts, a tank top, and no bra. A confused-looking guy held the door open and watched me as I proceeded to (inexplicably, in his eyes) dump a bowl of water on the grass and storm back inside. Had I been less enraged, I might have been embarassed at showing so much unshaven leg in the middle of winter. But no.
The chronicles continue to come up with exciting new developments. The sink has begun not only to refuse to drain, but to occasionally, iwht a hideous gurgling, spit up. Things that I’m fairly certain we never ate, let alone poured down the sink, come spewing up. Once, I came home to find a sickly, purple thing trailing otu the sink and for a horrible moment I thought it was an umbilical chord and that our sink was in fact giving birth to the anti Christ. Thankfully, it was merely a very swollen, very purple noodle that came from goodness knows where.
The sink now sometimes fills itself and stays full for an entire day, at will.
We have begun cleverly washing our dishes in a large bowl, then dumping the remnants out into the bush outside our apartment. We feel simultaneously very sad and very clever about this development.
Naturally, we are displeased with the present state of affairs in Beezus. We have tried Draino and whatever it is that the maintenance man does to the sink with that plunger, and yet nothing seems to satisfy our sink monster. Washing dishes has become more than a chore… it has become a hazardous “adventure,” and you really never know what you’re going to get.