On a normal Friday we would have planned on working from our home office all day, but a great couple named Erin and Tom, who we will be shooting video for in 2012, were in town and able to stop by to finalize a contract so I went to the gallery to meet them. Upon unlocking the front door, 3 things immediately came to mind as I stepped into our front room. (1) how I love the soothing sound of our water feature (2) that there was a pungent oder of chlorine that I’m not used to smelling and (3) that we don’t have a water feature at the gallery. It didn’t take long to realize that something was terribly wrong. A solid pool of water was forming in our projection room just behind one of our couches and between our work desk. Rounding the corner it was obvious that the source of the rushing water was coming from below the sink. I immediately flung the doors of the cabinet open and was brushed back by the surprising spray of water. It wasn’t possible to see where the leak/small geyser was exactly coming from nor could I tell what sort of shut off valves were available to me. I had to make a decision right then; Erin and Tom would be there any minute so I could either just shut the doors and meet with them pretending that none of this had happened for the time being, or dive into the splash park underneath our sink and try to shut it down. I chose to be the hero.  My first dive resulted in a soaked coat (which I quickly removed) as well as an added level of respect for my opponent. I had to remove my glasses before the second dive. This time I was able to see at least two shut off valves, but I wasn’t sure if they would help or not because water seemed to be coming from so many different places. My third dive put me in position to attempt to shut off the first valve…it wouldn’t move. Upon resurfacing I realized that Erin and Tom were at the front door. I quickly tried to compose myself, but being soaked head to toe I’m sure I didn’t look to composed as I greeted them in the front room and quickly explained the scenario with an apology. They were extremely kind and came back to help me diagnose the patient. We arrived at the idea of trying to block the spray, so I reentered with part of a backdrop in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. This time I was able to figure out where the majority of the water was coming from and covered the water cannon with the supplies I had brought along. Now there was only water rushing out of the top of the cabinet and along the bottom. With a clearer line of site, we determined that the two visible valves would be of no help, the one hope was that there was a knob-less valve at the bottom of what seemed like one of the leaking pipes. Unfortunately I had taken my tools home the week before after finishing up building our newest backdrops, Erin and Tom didn’t bring along a wrench. Did I mention that I didn’t have a phone on me? Well without it I didn’t have the land lords numbers. I asked Erin and Tom if they could possibly babysit this little monster while I ran next door to see if the landlord was in her shop. Rushing outside, I realized why I don’t shower outdoors in the winter. After pounding on the landlords door for a minute, I realized she probably wasn’t sleeping in there and that I had to come up with something else. Why couldn’t a plumber just happen to pull up to the 4 way stop outside of our gallery? I ran to the corner and stepped inside a fellow merchants shop. The girl working didn’t have any idea about the landlords number, so I quickly headed out and down the block to Chauette. I had to of looked like a mad man. Drenched in the middle of winter with panic smeared all over my face, I semi shouted to the two women behind the desk asking them if they had the landlords cell phone number. After a few second of explaining I think they decided that the police weren’t necessary for their protection and that I genuinely needed help. They didn’t have the number. They quickly riffled through the phone book pulling up numbers for plumbers. After 4 or 5 calls and a couple of “you need to reach him at this number insteads…” I connected with my only hope, Scott the plumber. He was just finishing up a job near target and said he could be over in 10-15 minutes. In my head I imagined what another 10 or 15 minutes might add up to gallon wise, but it was better than the waiting list that the other plumbers were going to put me on. I gave him our address on Parmenter St, and apologized to the ladies for dripping all over their desk. I didn’t have any idea of how much time had passed, but realized that Erin and Tom had to of been on their own with out life jackets for way too long. Before I left, one of the ladies was kind enough to grab a guy from Louisian’s who thankfully borrowed me a pair of pliers to attempt to turn the mystery valve off with. I ran back around the block to our shop to find that Erin and Tom hadn’t closed the food gates while I was gone. I apologized again and told them I had to try one last thing. After having been outside, this time the water seemed strangely warm. I gave it a couple of good tries, but realized that the valve wasn’t turning and that if anything I risked breaking the pipes in a different spot if I pulled any harder. Realizing my final defeat, and that my fate now lied with Scott the plumber, I turned back to business as I was sure these guys had way better things to do with their Friday night than hang out with soaking wet me. Trying not to smear things to badly, we began finishing up with paper work when out of the corner of my eye I saw April stop at the intersection outside. I quickly asked them to hold on one more time and dashed out the door just catching her before she took off. Ripping the door open and trying to explain the enormity of our situation in as few of words as possible I managed to make enough sence to get her to hand over her cell phone. She had our kids and couldn’t just jump out so I told her to hold tight. I reached the land lord, and told her we would more than likely need access to the basement to shut things off. She didn’t seem too thrilled by my call, but said she was on her way. I re entered the gallery, again apologizing for having to step out and we finished up the formalities and even got to discuss some details about their day. The water seemed to be receding, though the amount coming out wasn’t any less. It was going somewhere. We said our good byes and I was left alone with nothing but hope that Scott the plumber would be there soon. Minutes seemed like hours, but soon he arrived. after a few minutes of professional diagnostics he proclaimed that a pipe had burst in a couple of places and that there was no way to shut it off from in here. Luckily the Landlord pulled in and within minutes Scott made it to the basement and the sound of rushing H20 soon ceased. I was left with a few moments of silence to fully let all of the worse case scenarios and outcomes of this ‘burst pipe’ run through my head. When Scott and the Landlord entered they filled me in that there was about a foot of water down stairs. It was decided nothing but clean up could take place that night so I was alone again to vacuum up what was left of the monsoon on the surface. Luckily I had entered in what must had been minutes after it happened. I was able to grab and remove most of our damageable stuff before it would of been submerged. The extent of the damage to our floors is yet to be fully realized as things are still drying out, but we are so fortunate and really thankful for Erin and Tom. Not only for their understanding during the crisis and willingness to help,but if it wasn’t for them we wouldn’t of come in at all that day. Our land lord was headed out of town for the weekend, so who knows when the discovery would of been made and just how much could of been washed away over the weekend. So thank you guys. I fully plan on staying dry the rest of the weekend, can you blame me? I am however considering a water feature for the gallery now. There’s just something about that sound. – Derrick