Do you see it?
Speaking of which, it’s my experience that every bathtub has a quirk.
Maybe the hot and cold faucets are on the wrong sides or turn backwards. Those are the special ed bathtubs.
Perhaps the water pressure is comparable to an eye dropper. Alternately, in the case of my great uncle’s house, it’ll blast your sins away (my sister’s words). Those bathtubs have boundary issues.
I can’t remember where, but I once used a shower where the faucet-to-shower-head mechanism was not a stopper or a switch; it was a ring around the opening of the spigot. You know, where the water comes out? Well, to make the water go up through the shower, you reached down and yanked on this metal ring. That bathtub needed to be different. That was a non-conformist bathtub (but it struck me as a little desperate, you know?).
Anyway, my current bathtub quirk is that, approximately 90 seconds after you’ve pulled up the thingy to relay the water through the shower, the spigot starts to whine.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.”
I have to thwack down the stopper and yank it back up, and for the rest of the shower, we’re fine, the spigot and I. My bathtub likes to complain and get smacked around a little bit.
What’s your bathtub’s quirk?
I don’t have a bathtub. That’s my girlfriend’s quirk.
I always wondered if you liked caulk? :)
My bathtub has incontinence issues. It leaks.
That would be the “Mr. Suicide” bathtub plug with float.
http://www.alessi.com/en/2/3558/bathroom-accessories/amgi02-az-mr-suicide-bathtub-plug-with-float
I received this as a gift (presumably it was not a suggestion, but given to me because I’m a shrink). Haven’t brought myself to actually use it… a little creepy… but someday when I do, it will certainly be my bathtub’s greatest quirk.
Deborah, you’re girlfriend has more quirks than that.
Tami, might I suggest a little caulk?
Apropos, I was wondering who would make the “I like caulk” joke. Danke shoen, Joe.
Kristen, that is a scary motherfucking bathtub plug.
oh! my bathtub is super special ed… in order to switch it to a functioning shower, you have to turn on ONLY the hot OR cold water, not both, only one. If you turn both hot and cold on, to you know, test your temperature or something crazy like that, then you try to switch it to the shower, only half the water will come from the shower head, and the other half will still pour outta the spigot. but if you turn on the hot water, switch to shower, then add in cold until desired temperature is reached? then it’s groovy and shower time can be a happy time.
Oh my gosh, Other Amy, you have a bathtard.
i’m pretty sure i have more quirks than my bathtub does.
Will you caulk mine?
erika, your quirks are so darn cute, though!
CM, absolutely. I’m feeling a little caulky (pun pun-pun pun PUUUUUUNNN) about my handyperson abilities.
OK, stop by next time you’re in Hoboken. Even if it takes years, I probably won’t be caulking before then! Or is it caulking-ing? Hmmmm.
i resemble that remark
I once spent a night in a fancy-schmancy B&B in Bawstin as I had a very early meeting the next day, and this inn was closest to campus, although pricey. When I arose in the wee hours to get to work on time, I stepped into the tub and reached for the control to turn the water from bath to shower–and could find *nothing.* I felt all around the shower head, all around the faucets, all around the drain—nothing that remotely resembled a control. Even without my tea, I remember reasoning that if a showerhead exists, it must have a control SOMEWHERE.
It was too early to call the owner, plus I was standing there naked and didn’t feel like getting a lesson in something so basic without my clothes on, so I had a bath instead. I hadn’t done that in scores of years. It felt very weird, but I had fun making “mermaid hair.”
If I ever go back to that B&B, I’ll have to ask for a lesson. THAT bathtub had serious superiority issues.
Ha ha, Mom! Maybe there was a secret tile you had to press on…maybe it just liked to be enigmatic.