Is this another change a lightbulb joke?
A few weeks ago, the local electric company installed new poles for supporting overhead wires, all through the neighborhood. Shortly after one was installed in front of our house, our basement started to puddle up with unpleasant looking water. A plumber was called. Plumber put an auger in the main waste line, the three inch diameter pipe that connects us to the sewer. For a while, things went well. And then things stopped. Short version of the story: plumber (and my hubby, who was supervising) determined that the blockage was located right where the new pole was located. Plumber was able to get a smaller auger past that spot, and get our waste water out of our basement, but the consensus was that the new pole had:
a) cracked our pipe, sending our waster water who-knows-where, and
b) was partially blocking what was left of the pipe.
Much arguing with the electric company ensued. Nagging of the electric company and any and all of its employees followed. Then on Saturday, a crew showed up to move the wires from our old pole to our new pole. Oh no you don't, said our household. Hubby laid out the problem for the crew. Phone calls were made. By late Saturday, they were digging out front.
And then the digging stopped. And for several very cold damp hours a crew of men stood in the street in front of our house, performing the proverbial leaning on their shovels, while they waited for the one truck that could hold up the old pole while they dug out the new one and replaced the pipe. By the time the pole-holding-machine arrived, it was not only cold and damp but quite dark, necessitating the truck with big floodlights. Digging, laying of pipe, pouring of cement, relocating of poles, filling of holes and tamping of dirt went on until after my bedtime.
I don't know what these guys make, but I assume that by 9 on a Saturday night, they're making overtime. It's Christmas. Everybody can use the extra bucks. But wouldn't it have been easier to just not break the damn pipe in the first place?
a) cracked our pipe, sending our waster water who-knows-where, and
b) was partially blocking what was left of the pipe.
Much arguing with the electric company ensued. Nagging of the electric company and any and all of its employees followed. Then on Saturday, a crew showed up to move the wires from our old pole to our new pole. Oh no you don't, said our household. Hubby laid out the problem for the crew. Phone calls were made. By late Saturday, they were digging out front.
And then the digging stopped. And for several very cold damp hours a crew of men stood in the street in front of our house, performing the proverbial leaning on their shovels, while they waited for the one truck that could hold up the old pole while they dug out the new one and replaced the pipe. By the time the pole-holding-machine arrived, it was not only cold and damp but quite dark, necessitating the truck with big floodlights. Digging, laying of pipe, pouring of cement, relocating of poles, filling of holes and tamping of dirt went on until after my bedtime.
I don't know what these guys make, but I assume that by 9 on a Saturday night, they're making overtime. It's Christmas. Everybody can use the extra bucks. But wouldn't it have been easier to just not break the damn pipe in the first place?