Friday, February 27, 2009

Stinking Sinking

What does a girl have to do to get a sink that is not defective in some way? Is there some secret plumbers handshake that I don't know? Do I have to give nylons and chocolates to the barely post-pubescent Beavis look-alike at the Home Depot? What?

Shopping for a sink top looked like it was going to be easy. I went to Lowes, found a grey and white marble sink top with a bowl attached. It was in stock and ready to go. I bought that and a vanity and sent Kenny and Dave to pick it up. That shoulda been all she wrote.

When Kenny and Dave got the sink top home they opened the box to find that it was cracked clean down the middle. A perfect bisection. They loaded it back in the truck and took it back to Lowes where they found that all the other stocked versions of that model were similarly divided. True to form, I did not like any other models that they had, so I was back at square one. Later the next night I went on online to the Home Depot website (without expectation of success) and found that they had a similar top in a grey speckled granite that was really quite fetching. My mind was instantly made up and the very next day I went off to pick up my new bathroom buddy. I hit the Depot and found the aforementioned young sink jockey to tell him of my porcelain desires (sorry, for drifting into Romance novel land, I just saw Fabio on TV) . I told him that I wanted the sink top that he had on display in the 49" model, only to find that they don't stock larger than 32". Curses! Foiled again! So I dutifully order the model I needed, got the speech about "takes a week or so to come in. blah blah blah. . " and I walked away sinkless, again.
Cut to one week later and I get the call I have been anticipating from Home Depot. I go off to work and Dave arranges to go with Kenny that evening to pick up my vessel. Being the Friday bight before a big weekend project at work, I stayed a little late to make sure I had things lined up for the morning. By the time I had a moment to call home and let everyone know my whereabouts, it was ten to seven. I got my son on the phone and cut right to business - "Where's Daddy?" I asked. "He's not here." Fair enough. "Where is your sister?" to which he replied that she was home with him, along with his friend Stevo. I took a beat to digest what I had just heard. I began doing child math in my head Joey + Stevo + Sophia = cop cars waiting for me when I get home. "Is your father on crack?" I screeched. My dear 12 year old son had the good sense to reply "Apparently so" . We have NEVER left Joey and Sophia alone together, no less with a friend. They are a pair more combustible than gasoline and a match. It's one of those things that you should never do. It's like asking the cast of Star Trek to record an album. Have you heard Leonard Nimoy's version of "If I had a Hammer"? Nuff said.
I immediately called Dave on his cell phone to find out exactly when he checked out mentally, only to find that they weren't even at Home Depot yet. They had been stuck at a malfunctioning traffic light for 20 minutes and their patience was worn out. I put on my best harpie voice and began giving Dave in a piece of my mind about leaving the kids only to have my words drowned out by the sound of Kenny yelling across to the lady in the lane next to him. They were making plans to jump the light. He was saying something like "Follow me to freedom" After that it was all revving engines and "I gotta go." Whatevs. It was too late for me to do anything about it but complain. I was trying to finish up at work, so I went back to what I was doing only to have the phone ring five minutes later. It was Dave again, attempting to explain the numerous imperfections they found in the granite sink top. There were big white spots in the grain that looked like like five big toothpaste splotches that you couldn't wipe off. Hell, if I'm going to have a sink that looks like it's covered in spittle, I'd damn well better be the one doing the spittleing. They e-mailed me the picture and we agreed that it would be best if I could go over to Home Depot in the AM to inspect it. I can already tell you that I am going to want a new one. He said that people were passing by and commenting on how beautiful it was then doing a double take and going "What's that white stuff?" Not a good sign. I have to work at 7:00 am tomorrow, so I will be at Home Depot beforehand. Nothing like a 6:00 am run to Home Depot to alert the senses. Maybe orange pinny Beavis will be waiting at the door for me on his trusty steed, holding out a hot cup of coffee and a piece of toast slathered in I Can't Believe it's Not Butter.

PS. When Dave got home he found out that Joey had thrown a metal necklace toward his bed and it landed on a plug that was half in/half out of the wall, causing sparks to commence in a dazzling pyrotechnic display. I need to share with my dear husband the wise and haunting words of the one and only Miss Whitney Houston - "Crack is wack"