Good Morning, Sunshine

Mornings are exercises in suffering in which I refuse to take part. Generally, I don't even consider joining the day until foreign substances have entered my body and crowbarred the eyelids open. This morning was particularly painful following a last hurrah sort of evening the night before, and to make matters worse, I've temporarily sworn off coffee.

To wit, things were grim.

In any event, I staggered into the bathroom this morning with a vague intention of getting to work on time. As I blindly groped around the shower trying to turn it on, I heard an ominous metallic scraping sound behind me. When I turned around, I saw in horror that my watch, laid on the edge of the sink, had VANISHED. It wasn't on the floor. It wasn't under the bathmat. It wasn't still on the ledge of the sink, though I checked several times to confirm. In a harrowing state of affairs, my watch had somehow SLITHERED from its perch, crawled across the bowl of the sink and dive-bombed down the drain.

Plumbing is not one of my strengths, but I gamely got down under the sink and batted at the pipes, hoping for some kind of open sesame button. Nothing. I ran down the hall to the Eddie the super's and banged on his door for a while. No response. I called my roommate, who in an extremely unlikely state of affairs was not in the apartment, but received only a snarl to 'call Eddie' before he hung up on me. I called my mother: unhelpful. I went back to the super's apartment for one more try, and happily managed to catch him coming in the door of the building.

As it happened, plumbing is not one of Eddie's strengths either. He managed to wedge himself into the cabinet under the sink, and for a while lots of banging and scraping and muttered Spanish imprecations were all that emerged. Finally, pouring sweat, the poor man extracted himself from the cabinet. 'It's open, my friend!', he exclaimed proudly, 'but no watch'. 'No watch?!?' I wailed. 'No watch', he confirmed. We peered down the sink and indeed, had a clear view of the cabinet floor below. I resisted an urge to check under the bathmat once more. 'But where else could it BE?' I beseeched him. 'Wait', he said, 'I check the other pipe.' This seemed to be a very good idea. And sure enough, further digging around produced the runaway. Eddie, justifiably very proud of himself, got to his feet to wash the scum off the watch for me. 'STOP!', I shrieked, 'the pipe's still open!!' Too late; water came pouring out onto the floor.

'Sorry, my friend,' he said, 'mornings not so good for me.'