We had a little problem at the villa today concerning the back bathroom’s sink overflowing when the washing machine was in the rinse cycle. It was a real mess with water flowing out of the sink’s drain and shooting up like one of those fountains you see in the center of a shopping mall – oh and it smelled real bad.
I called a plumber and did what I could in the meantime; plunging and throwing down towels and moving things out of harm’s way. Did I mention how bad it smelled, sort of like rotten eggs and some kind of chemical odor…ugh.
So anyway, the plumber and his assistant show up about an hour later and as I am showing them to the scene of the crime, the assistant, a skinny little man with these wild serial killer’s eyes says, “Wow, where did you that picture of John Lennon?” He was referring to the huge framed poster of John, I have in the front hallway that my friend, Gracie gave me on my birthday last year.
“A friend gave it to me,” I said as I ushered them into the loo.
Psycho-eyes took one look at the sink and the puddle of phosphorescent muck bubbling over and attacked it with a metal snake, while the plumber himself, opened up his case of plumbing paraphernalia and removed some items. I was about to leave them to it when the plumber said to me, “You know, back in ’72 I stayed at this hotel right near the Dakota while visiting my brother who was at NYU at the time.” I was intrigued so I listened, “One morning, I got up early, went for a walk, and was just on the outskirts of Central Park and there he was, he had a cup of coffee and was smoking and he had a few newspapers shoved under his arm.”
“Amazing!” I exclaimed, "You saw Lennon!"
“Yes,” he said digging through his tool box, “I figured, what the heck, and said hi to him, and he nodded and said, ‘bloody cold morning’,” the plumber paused and I saw a smile come across his face as he looked over at me and said, “Isn’t it funny how things like that stay with you the rest of your life, I’ll tell you, It seems like it just happened yesterday…”
Later on, when they were through, Psycho-eyes told me that they found the problem, there was this hole in one of the pipes and it was somehow causing water to back up into the back sink and they’d repaired it.
Of course, the rest of my day is filled with music, I’m Fixing a hole, She Came in Through the Bathroom Window, …Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall…
What would life be with out these curious little exchanges between people? Just another day in the life, I suppose.