The Plumber Next Door

The plumbing truck has been parked next door since we got here. I had never met Jeff, but I had seen him leave promptly for work at 6.30 AM. I had seen him return from work at 9 PM. And I certainly noticed his classic Air Stream International.

I thought about striking up a conversation with Jeff because we were experiencing a small leak around the kitchen faucet. But I thought, gosh, he already works long hours. I shouldn’t bother him.

This small leak was easy for me to procrastinate about. Not so, Judi. It did bother her. Judi didn’t want to wait until it was a crisis. I thought we had time, and when I hit VA, where I’d be settled for at least a month, I could shop for a replacement faucet, and perhaps have a plumber out to install it.

Judi noticed Jeff was home this afternoon. He had gone home to MO for the weekend. We heard him rearranging stuff in the plumbing truck, and then was standing outside talking to neighbors. Judi thought I should go speak with him. I always try to do the next right thing.

Jeff was happy to look at the faucet. He quickly did a complete rebuild with all new gaskets, springs and everything not housing. All the while Jeff expounded on his farm back home, training rookie plumbers, and the hardship of working away from home since the Fall of 2005.

Gee, he has been living in his trailer basically full time, first FL then TN, for the same 2 and a half years as I have lived in mine. That makes my Montana (and its faucet) 2.5 years old, and his Airstream 40 years old. It had been his parents. Very cool.

I paid Jeff fairly (even Judi thought so) and he seemed happy. The pending repair is done, and I had the pleasure of meeting a skilled tradesman. Life is good in an RV.