The Kitchen Stink
The kitchen sink (a.k.a. The Kitchen Stink/The Kitchen Swamp) situation was out of hand.
The drain has been sluggish for months (so have I, but I haven't done anything about that either). Periodically, I poured a bottle of highly caustic chemicals down it. This problem is just too big to be handled by homeopathic remedies.
I have invited people over, just to get their opinions on the kitchen stink/swamp situation. They always suggest something nice like baking soda and vinegar. I am not making a f*cking volcano for my science class. Something has died in my drain, been reincarnated, and is coming back to haunt me.
I tried the plunger. I have no control over a plunger. It slid around the greasy bottom of the stink/swamp and when I jerked it free, particles of salsa, grated cheese, corn, and an unidentifyable slimy substance hit the ceiling fan. It did leave a rather lovely spiral print on the ceiling which I admire every day.
I went to Ace Hardware and asked for advice. I didn't want Mike to know how disgusting I am and just how long I've let the situation fester. I pretended that I was shopping for Drain-o for a friend. As though that's perfectly normal. I even made pretend phone calls to my own voicemail to get the details for him. "What? You say it's pretty backed up? It's been that way for how long?"
I think he was convinced.
Mike sold me a bottle of "Liquid Fire." It had a picture of a skull on it, so I was willing to pay the $6. He placed the bottle in my hands like it was Holy Water and warned me to only pour a tablespoon down the drain. I looked him in the eye and gave him my word.
I knew that I would pour the entire contents of the bottle down the drain as soon as I got home.
I poured half the bottle down the drain. It began to smoke. I ran the cold water and stepped outside to make a phone call. When I came back in, the sink was nearly overflowing. I retched. Then I cursed. Then I poured the rest of the bottle into the stink/swamp. Nothing. The neighbors were grilling so I invited myself over. It smelled like eggs. "Are you boiling eggs?" I asked. They weren't. I ducked back in the house to grab my valuables. I waved goodbye to my neighbors, "Sorry, I can't stay...I erm, I just remembered that I'm late for something very important. If anything blows up tonight, I don't know anything about it." They looked confused, but they are used to me.
When I got home the next morning, nothing had changed. The kitchen stink/swamp was full. It smelled worse than ever. G came over for a cup of coffee and poured the grounds into the sink.
It has worked perfectly ever since. I bet my neighbors have a hell of a clog.