Warning: The following blog contains graphic information about the state of the leak under my bathroom sink and may not be suitable to small children. It may also not be suitable to teenagers, the elderly, newborns, and especially people who are living at high altitudes (since this leak took place at my fourth floor apartment). Please do not read this blog if you have recently experienced a leak of your own, or if you and your mate are undecided regarding the prospect of one day having a leak of your own. This blog is not meant for the faint of heart, faint of stomach, or anybody who has just fainted.
My name is Troi, and I have a leak. (“Hi, Troi.”) The location of my leak is under my bathroom sink. Like you, I experienced the melange of expected emotions as I peered underneath the bathroom sink one evening. Below is my journey through this tumultuous time.
There is no leak. There is another reason that the bathroom items in my cupboard beneath the sink are soggy. I will place this single Bounty paper towel on the floor of the cupboard, which will soak up this sea of water. I will then close the cupboard door, removing all evidence of that which I just witnessed.
When I can no longer go without the items under the cupboard, I am forced to reopen the doors. I am angry that my items have been reduced to soggy shadows of their original selves. (Is that a roll of toilet paper, or a can of hairspray? I can’t even tell.) I finally give in, and fill out a work order at the apartment office downstairs. I return to my apartment to find black goo creeping up out of the sink drain.
“Go away, black goo,” I negotiate gently but firmly with my assailing sludge. “If you go away, I will start cleaning the sink every week. Maybe even the whole apartment!” My sludge doesn’t leave, and I am only distracted from it by the water seeping steadily but swiftly from the cupboard underneath the sink to my bathroom floor.
I come home from work to a receipt alleging that my sink leak has been fixed. I celebrate by turning on the faucet to brush my teeth (as celebrations are best undertaken with clean teeth and fresh bresh), and water surges down the drain, gurgles, and starts spraying the inside of the cupboard, and all of my newly purchased bathroom items, with more fervor than ever before. I HAVE BEEN DECEIVED. This is very depressing.
I will live a life of waterlogged solitude with my new friend, Black Goo.
**After Troi moved out and became a squatter in the apartment stairwell, the workers returned to her apartment and fixed the leak. She asks that you send any (stair)well wishes to her at the intersection between the 3rd and 4th floor stairways.