Monday, June 9, 2008

the sink-stopper story, and what it might mean

[text]
back when i was in college, and about a week after i moved into a brand-new condominium*, the little knob behind the lavatory faucet--the one that made the stopper go up and down--quit working.

being me, i quickly adjusted down to this new reality--when i wanted a sinkful of water i pushed the stopper down with my finger, and when i was done and wanted an empty sink i opened the cabinet door, reached under with my right hand and blindly fumbled around for the release lever until i found it. at first it was a pain in the ass, but with practice it soon became second nature and i didn't even have to think about it.

fast-forward four years when i'm getting ready to move out: while giving the bathroom its final cleaning, i get down on my hands and knees and crawl under the sink and immediately see the source of the problem i've been living with for so long. i reach up, slide the two errant parts together, tighten the coupling and voila! everything works again. and for the remaining week i occupy the condo i marvel at how nice it is to be able to fill and empty the sink with the mere flick of a knob.

point of this story: rather than taking two minutes to fix the problem when it arises, mkf spends four goddam years and a thousand times the effort working around it.

moral of this story: depends on your point of view.

if you're the well-meaning friend who reminded me of this long-forgotten story today, it's that i need to learn to endure a little short-term pain for the benefit of long-term gain.

if, on the other hand, you're me, it's that i'd happily get down on my hands and knees and crawl under a sink to fix a problem for the next guy when for four years i wouldn't do it for myself.

either way, kind of fucked up, but it remains my pattern to this day.

sober update: this one only gets a 6.5 on the maudlin scale.
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* judi: unit 308 in that little complex at 30th & guadalupe, in case you're interested.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

woo--I'll have to check it out.

I had a light switch in my apartment in S. Florida that we had no idea what it went to. For several years we'd stand there and flick it on and off, trying to figure out what it attached to.

One day, when we had plugged in our 'new' breakfront into the socket and it wouldn't light, the proverbial light bulb went on.

Switch, meet socket. Socket, meet switch.*

*The landlord lived across the hall from us.

Oh, and if you come and visit, Mikey, I'll take you past the old place. :)

mkf said...

judi: sounds like an old episode of friends.