The strange world of Plumbing.

There is no question, that I am fascinated with people. All people. Even the nasty, rude, and obnoxious people. They add a different angle to life. One of the greatest joys I get from working in my chosen industry are the countless people I get to meet. All walks of life. Rich, poor, princes and paupers. Self righteous arses without a clue and simple folk that are simply glad to have someone lend a hand. It's a great thing; showing up at your door.

Years ago I typed up a few stories and posted them online. A good friend of mine said that she saw them on an old My Space page I had from a while back. I looked and came up empty handed, so I guess I'll have to start over again. That and I have a few other stories to add since then. You may want to stop eating anything as some of the stories tend not to go very well with sustenance.

I'll start with the story of a lesson in human nature.

I was called out to a large apartment building our company looks after in the south east part of Calgary. I knocked on the door at about 10 a.m. I could hear shuffling of feet from within the apartment, followed by what sounded like "coming!"

A few moments later, an old man in his underwear and a toothless grin answered the door. I informed the occupant that I was there to repair his heating system. He mentioned that he knew I was coming and excused himself while he went and put on some clothes. How nice. I began by shutting a couple of valves off in his suite and informed him that I needed to get into the bedroom to shut an additional valve off to continue with the repairs. He paused and finally said, with now a full set of teeth, "by all means."

I walked into the room thinking he was alone, but was startled by what appeared to be a rather young woman laying in his bed with the sheets up over her shoulder. I assumed the age of the woman by the shape of the body and the color of her hair. I quietly continued into the bedroom and knelt beside the bed to access the valve. What was strange was that there was no sound of breathing. I didn't look to see who was laying in the bed next to me as I wasn't sure as to what was going on. All I could tell you, was that I felt very nervous and the hairs stood up on the back of my neck. I got up and turned around to find him standing in the doorway watching me. I exited the bedroom and continued to finish the repairs in the living room. Once the work was done, I needed to go back into the bedroom to open the valve I had just closed. I entered the bedroom and once again knelt beside the bed with the woman who wasn't breathing. I opened the valve and this time I looked to see the face of the person beside me. I was started by what I saw. A wooden store mannequin stared back at me. Not a "adult related product", an actual store front wooden mannequin. I should have felt better, but I didn't. I was strangely intrigued and still nervous. I stood up and went back into the living room to test the new heating valve I had installed.

While I toiled away I looked up and saw an old picture on the wall. I thought it might make things less awkward if I start some idle small talk. The picture on the wall looked to be from around the 1930s 1940s. Three boys and what I assumed was a mother and father sitting in front of an old pick up truck and farm equipment. I asked him about the picture and he broke into this sad and yet amazing story I will share with you.

His name was Hank (no, not his real name). He was born in central Saskatchewan in 1932. He was one of three brothers. Both his brothers went off to war in 1944 and both his brothers never returned. Casualties of war. His father was so depressed over the loss of his sons that he shot himself in their barn. His mother, who now had to deal with the loss of two of her sons AND the suicide of her husband lost her mind trying to internalize and deal with the tragic details. She was committed to an institution leaving Hank to find his own way in life. Hank never married, no children and kept primarirly to himself. I was at a loss for words.

I wanted to shake his hand, and offer some sort of story that could reflect how I felt, but I had nothing. No life experience that I could recall, could possibly help this man. I bid him a good day and left.

The remainder of the day was spent thinking about that job, in fact I still think about Hank from time to time. I heard from the property manager that he passed away last year. Where ever he is now, I hope it's better than what he left behind.

We humans are social creatures by nature. It's wired into us and when you remove the very fabric of who we are or distort it in any way, the outcome can be very strange. Imagine going through your whole life without the joy of sharing a warm bed with someone. Perhaps we too would be sharing the evening comforts with a store front mannequin.

The next story is a bit disturbing but once again, a lesson in life. You think you know someone.

I actually have pictures of this one. Perhaps its an invasion of privacy, but I needed to document this job for health reasons. No, placing the pictures here doesn't apply to that reasoning, but unless you know where and who, then it really doesn't matter.

I fancy myself as a bit of a people watcher. I absolutely love sitting downtown at the grocery store on the corner of 11th ave and 8th street during my lunch break and simply watch people coming and going. I'd like to believe that I have become a good judge of character by at least in part doing just this. The story I'm about to tell you, teaches otherwise.

I was just about to leave the office to go to a job downtown when a call came in about some water that was seen coming out from underneath a door at a condominium property near by. A co worker and I left immediately to shut the water off and assess the situation. Upon arrival we entered the building and went down the hall to the place in question to find water was indeed coming out from under a door leading to a suite. I made a phone call to the property management company and informed them that we either called a locksmith or tried to get a hold of the owner to gain access. The management company was able to get a hold of the owner and told him to immediately return home so that we could make any necessary repairs. He arrived around 15 minutes later.

Mr Blue, we'll call him, pulled up in front of the condominiums in a hurried state. He drove a fairly new Jaguar and upon getting out of his vehicle turned to close the door to his car and his pants dropped to his ankles. Rob, my co-worker, turned and walked away so the customer couldn't see him break out laughing. We needed to be professional, but that was pretty funny. Now apart from the obvious, Mr Blue on all accounts seemed to be a very normal person. Well dressed (all be it his pants were too loose), nice car, well spoken and clean shaven. What was in his condominium on the other hand spoke of something different.

We went back into the building and for some reason Mr Blue waited outside. I was the first to enter. The door unlocked rather easy, but I could only get the door open far enough to squeeze my body through. I'm afraid I couldn't do the story any justice so I will leave you with some pictures and a closing remark that you con not always judge a book by it's cover and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder OCD is a very real disease so while I don't understand how someone could get this bad, I also understand that mental illness is sometimes hard to see.

Hallway next to kitchen

Bathroom after I shut the water off

Living room

The humidity was so high, the place was literally crawling

Kitchen where the little creepy crawly critters lived

The humidity was so high that the walls and ceiling had a thick growth of  mold. It looked like shag carpeting. I'm not judging, but this is a condominium. Your walls, are his walls, your ceiling is his floor. The downside of condo life. Mr Blue was removed some time later and his apartment was gutted and rebuilt.

Well on that note. Its time to go to bed.

Night all.