Follicle Salvage

Posted on February 25, 2006 in Routine

The trip to Home Depot yielded, among other things, the wrong size of air filter and a plumber’s snake. I took the latter into the bathroom after Lynn went to bed. Instructions were unnecessary: I was Male and I knew how to wrangle the beast. Down the cross-barred hole that drained the bathtub went the metal reptile. The creature rammed into a clog, so I tightened the screw, turned the crank several times, and pulled the first gob from the oriface.

The wet rat smelled of rotting hair and fruity shampoo. I unscrewed it from the snake and threw it out, then set to finding the next clog nesting farther down the pike. My two feline sisters, Fiona and Boadicea, watched as I extricated three or four more mats of hair. Though the masses were rodent-sized, they did not pursue them into the trash can.

Sweet was the sound of the opalescent cyclone that appeared when I pushed the last clog into the sewage system. Satisfaction rewarded me. I felt grand and powerful even though my follicle salvage had nothing to do with my being Male.