Home » I Clearly Suck At Being A Whore

I Clearly Suck At Being A Whore

Soooooooo. . .this was yet another one of my brilliant ideas. . .which you know, SUCKED.

When it came time to replace our water heater, I was very adamant I wanted a tankless, demand water heating system.  I figured it would save us precious space in our basement and I had heard that these systems could be more energy-efficient since they didn’t have to keep an entire tank full of water hot. . .or something. . .I KNOW I read something about energy efficiency.

Regardless, I was adamant.

And my Husband relented.

And we shelled out for some kind of fancy water heating gear that lives in a little dark corner of the basement in close proximity to our furnace, the toilet plunger and probably a gigantic rat or three.  (Just joking about the rats. . .gawd I hope that’s a joke.  I probably shouldn’t joke about rats in he house, huh?).

This was a number of years ago.  So many years ago, that I regularly had time then to fill my big, beautiful claw foot tub and climb in for a bubble bath.

And it was very apparent after a few months of using this tankless water heater, that it could NOT adequately heat enough water for an enjoyable bath.

Ok.  It’s a big, cold cast iron tub.  That’s a lot of demand.

So I mentioned it to my Husband and then essentially lowered my expectations.

And summer came and who wants a hot bath in the middle of August in Baltimore, anyway?

But the following fall, I was again faced with the prospect of tepid tubbies and I started bitching a little more.

And then the shower started getting pretty damned frigid too if I was washing my hair.

I attempted to discuss this with my Husband but the conversations always went like this:

Me:  “Bitch. Bitch. Bitch.”

Husband:  “You’re being crazy, bitch.”

Another year or so passed and then fate stepped in:  My Husband snapped his Achilles.  And after his surgery, he had to keep his foot dry.  So he needed to take a couple of baths.  And you know what?  He FINALLY AGREED that there was something wrong with the water heater.

So he called the “Handy” Man.  Said Handy Man trekked to the house, ate a bunch of our candy, clogged the toilet and ordered a part for thankless err tankless water heater.

And things seemed better. . .

But it was short-lived.

Son of a gun if that bastard didn’t start spitting out the same tepid water in no time flat.  This prompted Chris to raise the actual water temperature setting.

It worked. . .

For a while.

But before long I was starting to wash my hair separate from showers because I just didn’t have enough heat to get through it.  (I have a LOT of damned curly hair people!)

And Chris while not necessarily accusing me of being crazy during my bouts of incessant bitching, seemed less than motivated to find another solution.  Could it have been the 6 weeks of sick toddler after bringing a newborn home?   The 5 weeks of work he missed?  We can speculate all we want. . .I’m going with callousness coupled with complete apathy.

And then Fate intervened again:  One evening after we got the kids to sleep Chris was angling for a little um adult time.  Wink, wink, nudge.

I told him I’d be MORE than happy to accommodate his request except that I’d like a shower first and well, it was cold in our basement bathroom and we just didn’t have hot enough water.

“There’s nothing wrong with our hot water,” he insisted.  “Get in the shower.  Let it run a while, it will catch up.”

“No.  No it won’t,” I fired back at him.  “Besides, how often do I have time to let the shower run?  I NEED hot on demand.”

“Oh, I can give you hot on demand,” he said lurching towards me.

“Get off me!” I practically shouted.  “Come here, I’ll show you what I mean.”

And then Chris stood in the bathroom transfixed watching me oh so sexily huddle in the back corner of the shower while it spewed forth a bunch of cold water.

“See?  See?  If the water heater was working properly you could be watching me lather up my boobs by now.  See?  It. Does. Not. Work. Properly!”

“I see.” He said, dead serious.

Did that just work?

The next morning, I awoke to Chris calling the “Handy” Man.

I just whored myself for hot showers.  I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT WORKED.  What else can I whore myself out to get?  New sofa?  Cabinets?  Floor refinishing?  

My mind was reeling with the possibilities.  But I didn’t have much time to ponder the situation because soon enough, Chris informed me the “Handy” Man would stop by to check things out.

Woot!

I agreed to get Mac out of the house while Chris waited for the “Handy” Man.

Chris mentioned that he might have him take a look at our $500-but-apparently-still- junk continually dripping kitchen faucet as well.

“That’s a fantastic idea!” I said.  “Just whatever you do, please don’t let him use our bathroom, okay?”

It was raining.  So Mac and I ran a few errands.  We were going maybe two hours.  When I arrived home I learned Husband and “Handy” Man had somehow snapped something off that bleeping water heater AND they broke the faucet.

So I’m still taking cold showers and now my faucet is still dripping AND has some kind of screwdriver-drillbit wedged in it:

faucet

Clearly I SUCK at being a whore.

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 Responses to “I Clearly Suck At Being A Whore”

  1. Nat says:

    I just read a fb linked article on how a married guy dates his wife then I flip over here, thinking in my head, whatever show off… I flip over here and you are telling it like it is. I hope Chris is enjoying the cold showers for both handy man and whoreing reasons. Thanks for making me laugh x

    • admin says:

      I’m glad you liked it! Thank you so much for reading and commenting. We’re very happily married but I can assure you, there’s no “dating” going on around here. Ha.