Ew.

Prepare to be grossed out. I’m sorry people, but MY life is now YOUR life….and it’s not always gonna be rainbows and unicorns. The sooner you accept this, the sooner you can join the rest of us cynical “What kind of crap is THIS??” New Yawkers in our quest for a decent life and the perfect bagel.

It all started early this morning with a glass of water. Or, at least…it was supposed to be water. You be the judge: (consider yourself warned.)

I KNOW. Pretty gross, right? (And I’m not talking about the previous owner’s choice in wallpaper or tile…I had nothing to do with that.)

If you think THIS was bad, you should’ve seen the inside of the commode. On second thought, maybe it’s better that you didn’t. No sense in all of us losing our appetites for the rest of the day. I’m just grateful I’m not one of those people who gets up to get a glass of water in the middle of the night...in the DARK…from the TAP…Can you say “Ew?”

What a fantastic way to start the day! Hearing Taylor’s soft swearing should have been my first early morning clue (his bus arrives at 7am), but I’d chalked that up to his having a bad hair moment. At least he was smart enough to forgo his shower…he told me later that he thought he’d be cleaner avoiding the water. Smart boy.

By 7:15, I had placed a call to THEWATERCOMPANY, where I was briskly told that someone would get back to me shortly, as she was merely the answering service….”But, ew….thanks for sharing the graphic details.” (You’re welcome. I’m a firm believer in spreading the joy…we New Yawkers can spread it like nobody’s business.)

7:45am, my phone’s ringing. It’s Linda… my friendly neighborhood WATERCOMPANY representative!

“And how are YOU today?” she asks (a little too chipper for my sensitive ears prior to 8am...or possibly ever).

“I think the sewer’s coming out of my tap,” I respond. “How are you?”

“I’M GREAT. Thanks for asking!” she says. “What seems to be the problem today?”

“Uh. It’s my WATER…it’s, like, a deep BROWN color…I’m pretty sure water isn’t supposed to be a color…?” I finish, stating the obvious.

“Does is have a SMELL?” Linda asks happily.

“Hang on,” I say and dutifully smell the offending liquid. I report back that there is no offending odor…this said as I try hard not to gag into the phone.

“Is the water a uniform color? Is there any sediment?” she asks matter-of-factly.

“WHAT? Uniform? Sediment??….Are you kidding me?! This is not a color that should be found in nature, much less in my drinking glass!! Can you send someone out IMMEDIATELY??” I ask, sounding more than a little peeved.

“Do you have a water softener?” she asks, not skipping a beat. “If so, what brand is it?”

“Yes and I don’t know,” I answer, more annoyance creeping into my voice.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” she asks. “What does it say on the machine?”

“It doesn’t SAY anything,” I snap, as I launch into the explanation I’ve repeated at least a dozen times over the past 2 years. “I moved into this house 18 months ago. The previous owners were BIG FANS of the NONAME brand of appliances…and they were thoughtful enough to leave me no instruction booklets of any kind. NOT ONLY is there no BRAND name on the softener, but I don’t even know how to STOP it when it goes into its REJUVINATION mode, or whatever it’s called…it just runs and runs…,” I peter out at this point in my speech and punctuate my long-suffering hardship with the ever-popular dramatic “sigh…” that’s supposed to speak volumes and should say (amongst other things) “haven’t I suffered enough…?”

“Oh.” She says and I can tell I’ve lost her then…there’s no box in her little customer questionnaire for this tidbit of information (or lack thereof), so she’s not sure where to go from here.

“Try disconnecting your water softener,” she suggests after a moment “and run the water for two to three full minutes,” she finishes…as I realize she’s reading this from her handy-dandy-customer-service script.

“Uh...okay,” I say...as I’m wondering to myself if I’ve ever even SEEN a power cord running from this machine.

“You give that a try and feel free to call us back if we can be of help in the future!” Linda responds…and I can tell I’ve already lost her…she’s finished with me... and I’m on my own.

I trod down the stairs and by some minor miracle, I find the power cord and yank it from the wall with a self-satisfied little snap!...and then head back up the stairs to the bath. I turn on both the taps and watch the water change from brown…to black…to brown (again) and finally…to no color at all.

Halleluiah.