New Microwave!

Father had recently bough a new Fridge, Oven, and Microwave with light and fan that hangs above the oven. He had installed all but the microwave before I had arrived to PR.

Today was microwave day.

We removed the old microwave the night before to study the wall and make our game plan. I never knew how they were set up before. Apparently, they are attached to the wall via a hinge at the bottom and then held up by two screws though the cabinet above it. The old hinge frame was held in place by two screws close to center of it.

The next day (e.g. today) we went to home depot to pick up some screws and a masonary drill bit. Father has this huge hammer drill that he has had since 1990. It is loud, powerful, and bulky. During the "A/C Disaster" he had purchased some cement screws and a maconary bit that was the same size as the screws. As you probably all guess, the screws fit perfectly in the freshly drilled holes; so perfectly that they slipped right out of them. This time he was determined to buy the size that is written on the box.

Ok, we remove the old frame and notice that the old screws have some sort of sealant on them. Unusual extra protection for regular cement screws.

Father tapes up the new mounting bracket for the microwave and marks the holes with a sharpie. Huge hammer drill in hand, he proceeds to drill in the right hole then the left hole then the middle hole then the left upper hole...which is close to an old hole that someone had made previously and filled in with some sort of sealant. Mind you, through this while event we are arguing because I was telling him to not work so fast, and such. Here is the conversation.

Me: Pop, slow down and drill the holes straight! Not an an angle.

Father: "Eagh*! So what, Son? It does not matter."

For those who don't know, Father has a habit of using vocables when dismissing anything anyone says or just when he is in an angry mood.

Me: (Said sort of absentmindedly) "You know, you don't have to plunge the bit so deep, these screws are pretty short.


He is now working faster and drilling at more of an angle to spite me. Mind you, this hammer drill makes short work of the cement. As he drills the left top hole, the drill sinks pretty easily. Then, when he drills the left bottom hole the drill shoots in and smacks the wall making a bit of a counter sink to the hole. It sank as if there were a hole behind the kitchen wall.

Me: "Pop, that cannot be good. I told you we should only drill the length of the screw."

Father: "That was nothing. It is alright."

Me: "Seriously, you didn't need to use so much force.

At this point, Father is screwing in the mounting bracket and saying to himself, "What a good job this is! Look at what a good job I did!"

After he had screwed in the upper left screw I hear a gurgling noise. It is as if there were someone sucking in air and water from a straw behind the wall.

Me: "Wait! Did you hear that? Sounds like water."

Father: " What, Son? I don't hear anything. I don't hear any water!"

Noise stops.

Me: "I don't hear it anymore. I knew that last hole you drilled went in too easily."

Father: "You know nothing, Son."

And as he is screwing in the second to last screw that is when we both watch as a little stream of water starts appears down the tile. Sure enough, the sucking sound starts up again and more water starts leaking out of the hole.

At this point Father has stopped all his talk. He has the panicked look of a man who just did something bad. We take out the screws and remove the mounting bracket, and sure enough, that hole in the bottom is leaking water and that hole at the top is sucking in air. He then speculates that the water could have been trapped in the wall. I go upstairs to his bathroom, which is located above the kitchen, turn on the sink and flush the toilet. Sure enough, I hear him screaming from downstairs. Since the water was just leaking out, he must have drilled into the main drainage pipe for upstairs, otherwise it would have been spraying out of the hole like some sort of Three Stooges moment.

Well, he calls the plumber, then tells me. "Son, you wait here, I am going to Chinea's house to watch the superbowl. You wait for the plumber, let him in and pay him."

I tell him, "Pop, making me wait here is bullshit. I was looking forward to going to that party." because Chinea always has the best food and drink. Father just shrugged and left the apartment.

I was a little pissed that he was the one that broke the pipe, and I was the one that had to sit at home because of it, but that is just the way it goes.

Plumber showed up, used a chisel to remove the cement around the hole and found a large pvc pipe behind it. As it turned out, someone had already patched a hole that was drilled into the pipe the first time they hung the old microwave. Now I knew what the sealant around the old screws was all about. Nice of them to tell us that the main drain pipe was located there. He told me he had seen people do this all the time. He also informed us to be careful with the electric box that was close to this pipe ( as you can see in the picture)

Well, to make a long story short, he sealed the holes and patched up the cement so it looks as if there were never an issue....135$ later.

Probably the most exciting foosball superbowl game I had ever seen.