Mailbox Cook

Photo by TerryJohnston

If you’ve ever spent time playing the last hole on a mini golf course then you know where I am going with this, and you should stop reading now. For the rest of you, let me begin with some advice: choose your plumber the same way you choose your car. First look at its Facebook pictures, and then demand two.

To make a long story short, basically the policeman said that if the plumber didn’t come to my house I couldn’t live next to my neighbors anymore. Thanks for nothing.  So go into the future, and here is what happened yesterday when I met the plumber: the guy comes into my house and tells me about this new pipe he has or whatever, and then he hammers a hole into my wall.  I haven’t been back since.

Listen, I understand what it means to be a blue-collar worker. Let’s face the facts: my children didn’t legally change their last name because their father is some sort of DVD salesman or something.  However, when the unemployment rate is this high, can we really afford to have so many plumbers?

Hold the bread,

Richard