cheap faucets

(Sorry this is on the long side, I just have a lot of feelings.)

I thank god every day that I no longer work in retail, but now I work in an office for a small construction company and we have this old guy who is calling us repeatedly and complaining about our “shoddy work” because apparently his bathroom faucet is leaking….a YEAR after we completed the work. To top it off, he’s saying we replaced his faucets with the “cheap plastic kind instead of a good delta faucet” & that’s why they’re leaking, but we checked our invoices and we didn’t even replace his faucets…we literally just reinstalled his old ones….at HIS request.

The ACTUAL problem is that HIS cheap faucets have some kind of ring seal that naturally decays over time and needs replaced.

I have kindly and patiently told him this every time he calls but I think his memory is bad because he ~continues to call~ and rant about the same thing over and over. It takes about five solid minutes of him ranting in circles (not even joking, I’ve watched the call timer) to get him to calm down enough that I can explain AGAIN what the issue is. I’m 👌🏼this👌🏼close to blocking his number.

bananacreamphi  asked:

72, from reigen to seri

For Writing Meme72. “You deserve so much better.”

The first lesson that Serizawa learns from his mother is that nothing is life is free—not grades, not respect, not success.

These are things a person has to work for to be worthy of such honors, and he hears the same from his classmates.

At seven, Serizawa stops trying to work toward good grades, or his peers’ respect, or success with his student endeavors; he works to control his aura, tries to learn to stifle a fire by denying it oxygen.

His mother says: “Katsuya, if you work hard enough, you can control it.”

He works as hard as he can; he fails.


The second lesson that Serizawa learns in life is that things are free if you’re special enough.

These are things that people give out of fear, that no one is worthy of, but simply entitled to for being stronger.

At twenty-eight, Serizawa hides under the protection of his umbrella, opening it like a breath of fresh air, a burst of oxygen to fuel how alive he feels.

Toichiro says: “Serizawa, if you prove you’re strong enough, you can do anything you want.”


He shows he’s strong; he defects.


The third lesson Serizawa learns in life is that there are precious things that people give for free without demanding anything in return.

At thirty, he’s sitting in a park, tucked into a suit and letting the sun shine on his face. Everything smells good—the fresh cut grass, flowers nearby, Reigen’s aftershave—and Serizawa inhales deeply.

Reigen is in the midst of greedily consuming a bento box he bought fifteen minutes earlier. “Katsuya,” he exclaims in a scandalized tone as he glances up, “didn’t you buy lunch, too?”

Serizawa flushes, stares down into his lap and steeples his fingers with a little shrug. “I’m not hungry yet.”

“Then why did you volunteer to take lunch at this hour?” Reigen asks, his eyes wide, staring in absolute cluelessness.

“I wanted to come with you.”

There’s a blink, and then Reigen looks away; Serizawa assumes that the color that appears in his face is from the spring sun.

There’s a short silence, until Reigen murmurs, “I brought a few fresh tomatoes for later.” He swallows hard, glancing up at Serizawa in embarrassment. “I didn’t know you didn’t get lunch.”

Serizawa smiles, trying to keep his face neutral; but he can’t help the warm sensation that flutters in his chest when he looks at Reigen after almost a year, at this person who’s been kind to him, who’s taught him so many things, even though Reigen gives cheap advice like a faucet pouring water.

None of the things he’s ever told Serizawa are cheap, though.

“That sounds good.” Serizawa shrugs a little, the smile still on his face.

Reigen laughs, his voice barking a bit as he pulls a few fresh tomatoes out of the bag resting next to him on the bench. “Here,” he says, shaking his head as he hands one to Serizawa, “but you deserve so much better.”

Serizawa bites into the tomato, closes his eyes and savors it; and when he opens them, Reigen smiles back at him.