The house I was using part of as a studio has plastic supply lines and the previous owner had a contractor that was not so great. Whomever cut through the wall structure to route the main line that was mysteriously bending at a 90 degree angle right at that same place. Total dick move. So jump to now-ish and current designer (me) is making the crawlspace hole larger to be nice to the sad humans who have to crawl in there every 6 mos to change an air filter because some design bitch thought it makes sense to tuck the hvac in a crawl space rather than putting it somewhere where a grownup who knows what they are doing can change the air filter…fucking designer…so naturally I cut the main line by accident because why would the main line be a: plastic and b: buried right at the face of the god damn framing? Then I went to buy the emergency coupling to fix it and the sales guy decides to play: Lets be an obstructionist douchebag. So I ask him “Who owns this place, can I speak with him?” And he asks me “Why?” and I say “Because you are a fucking problem.” Then the owner invites me over and gets me the part. I love house shit.
Pi-Des 