We went out last night, to a club on Church St (Club 120, surprisingly at 120 Church St), to support a friend of a friend’s show. We managed to stay awake though, for the 1am show, and for the 2am bar closing, then at about 3am when the rest of the club had emptied, apart from our little corner (celebrating Kevin’s birthday). We’d felt very sociable, having met a few new people, danced, etc. We even got a cab back to Kevin’s for afters. It was like being in my early twenties again!
The event was a swim-suit themed night, which turned out to be useful because when we got to Kevin’s the cold water tap on his kitchen sink broke, while on full-ball, causing the sink to rapidly fill and the tap base to spray water everywhere. His taps were weird; they turned on an off in reverse to what you expect. Then the cold tap turned on and nobody could turn it off.
Now we’d all managed to drink a few bottles of vodka during the evening. So were all not at our quickest, or most attentive. Everybody reacted differently. Periodically somebody would realise that the water was spraying onto the kitchen bench, onto the floor and flooding the apartment. That person would bravely stand at the coalface and cover the tap with his bare hands. Others would dash off, having thought of something, a few just stood back, cautiously watching.
I periodically was amused at how much like a MET (Medical Emergency Team) call the situation was and was smiling, observing how everybody runs around like a chicken with its head chopped off, inefficiently not achieving much, with no team effort. Then I realised I should probably take a leadership role and coordinate things, as it was exactly like the emergency situations in the hospital which I have been trained to coordinate, except I don’t know how to fix a tap. Nobody needed CPR! Someobdy came over and proceeded to fuss about. I told Daniel we should get towels, for the floor, and to cover the spray.
The sink filled up quick. I got a knife out of the drawer and pried the tap out of the sink, so it would drain.
I told the guy in a sailor’s suit to help me lay the towels down, like a barricade. Then I realised I needed a drink of water and wandered off. Everybody else seemed to have it in control. Maybe we could distribute glasses and just drink the water as it came out?
Bryan announced that there should be a central valve under the sink, and launched under the sink, throwing the garbage to the side, and turned the valve that was for the washing machine, and not the sink. There was no other tap.
People got ideas, went in search of another valve, got distracted, somebody went next door to ask a neighbour for help.
Kevin and Adam brought out a screwdriver set that had a million pieces, and spent a while assembling something. This was just like when the entire MET gets focussed on the packed cells, or the defib, or something that will save everything, but forgets to manage the airway. Or give oxygen. Maybe somebody knew what was going on, but we were all doing things individually.
A sodden pizza box was trying to float across the kitchen floor.
Electricity! There was a computer tower and cords 2 m away from the sink. Two people were already under the table and had elevated the CPU from the floor. We barricaded the emerging 4 mm high tsunami with all of Kevin’s towels.
A tap was found next to the toilet. But it just stopped the toilet from working.
Kevin and his partner, Adam were trying to call the owner, or somebody.
Most of the immediate danger was coming from the water that was spraying onto the bench, and onto the floor, despite our having wrapped the tap with towels to drain into the sink. I recalled the Life Hack website that suggests putting a dustpan under the bathroom sink tap, to guide the water into a bucket. It worked a charm.
At the same time a bleary-eyed neighbour arrived with Adam, with a device that pokes into a hole in the wall under the sink, and turns the water off. How useful! Shouldn’t such a device be there already? Perhaps connected!?
It was probably half an hour of chaos before the water was shut off, the entire kitchen was flooded, covered in sopping towels, and everybody was rejoicing that this was the best swimsuit/pool/afters party ever! Everybody except Kevin, who was mortified and trying to reassure everybody that his house is not normally “like this”. I was having the most exciting time ever! I didn’t have to make conversation with anybody, but could still be involved in the group.
People soon settled onto couches and a packet of corn chips was opened. Bryan fixated on taking the rubbish out (at 4am) and got into a barney with Kevin, who wanted him to leave it. They made up soon enough.
I realised we’d stayed up awfully late (it was 4am), I had a headache, and we should probably get a cab home. I really wanted to check we’d turned all our taps off.
Kevin owns a cat. It emerged after we’d finished mopping up, and walked around, looking unimpressed.
Others from the night club came, and looked perplexed. We decided to have a pool party! It was a good night.