Last one in this theme….I promise…

A few months ago I truly performed dark magic however and the maid actually said

“Sah performs magic”. 

I never really thought the whole number eight wire mentality existed in Kiwis more than other places in the world, but I guess I’m wrong.

My sink was blocked. 

Again. 

The plumbing under the sink is not a solid pipe so much as plastic tubing that has the thickness of a standard drinking straw and is corrugated like the piping used for old washing machines.  It melts with hot water (the kind you use for washing up) and is connected to the plug hole by something resembling those long petrol funnels…except it also has some sort of secret compartment (not removable) between the plug hole and the pipe where….surprise, surprise, food particles become stuck.  The maid’s solution prior to this has been to break up the food particles with a knitting needle.

Sometimes via the pipe…which, unsurprisingly, leaves holes.

A ‘plumber’ has replaced said pipe twice so far after I have turned it to molten rubbish and have noticed strange holes appearing in the pipe.  Each time I try to explain to him that a better solution would be PROPER FUCKING PLUMBING (but much more politely), but his toothless grin as he heads off to the market for a replacement piece of cling wrap tubing has me wondering whether he’s really the smart one with the repeat work and billing.

Today however, knitting needles and scooping food particles from the sink aren’t working.  The water is dark and going nowhere.  I am yet to find a plunger in any store (I’m certain it’s a side job for ‘plumbers’ unblocking mildly clogged sinks).

My maid swears under her breath.  It’s a polite version of swearing (like shit, but without the ‘i’, said very quietly and quickly), but she’s clearly miffed.  This about knocks me off my feet and I ask her what is wrong.  The frustration is explained to me with various hand signals and her very good English.  I think she expected me to call someone, or walk off and leave her to it as she started to roll up her sleeves again.

Instead I flip over a plastic container, place it over the plug hole, create a seal and start to squeeze slowly.

My maid is looking at me as if I am completely mad.

A couple more pumps of the container and I pause dramatically and give the container a good hard yank.

My maid is looking at the upheld container as if it is the instrument and cause of my obvious madness.  I keep an eye out for her knitting needle just in case she decides I’ve completely lost it.

Then she notices the water pouring out of the sink and away into the….well, to be honest, it’s probably straight out under the footpath outside.  She is delighted.  Her hand’s come up to her face in one of those classic advertising ‘wow’ looks and she pronounces my proficiency in conjuration.

I shouldn’t feel so proud, but I do.