It ain't my problem. Well it certainly isn't mine. Part 1

When your toilet doesn't work and your sewer-line isn't passable, you have what one might call, "A problem".  So Mr. Rooter came out a couple nights ago to clear our line and make this blockage a thing of the past.  Eddie, our trusty "cleaner-outer", worked diligently but to no avail.  I was busy keeping company with Mark's wife when I looked out the window to see Eddie shaking his head while speaking to Jeff about the line.  His body language and gestures saying, "You've got a problem."  We know, we were told and that is why we called.  But this is no ordinary problem.  This is a unique problem. I feel like a parent might when their kid is labeled "special".  You know the label...the kid has something to work on, nothing permanent but requiring immediate attention and maybe expensive therapy.  Well, my kid and his problem are "SPECIAL".  Maybe you are asking yourself why...just like we did.

Eddie couldn't get through the guk, try as he might.  So he had to call in the big guns.  His boss. Oscar.  You see, there is this device that they can use to pinpoint the problem area and determine how deep the problem goes...literally. I was expecting to see a sophisticated, massive mechanical tool with all the bells and whistles.  Oscar pulls out a bright red "gun" that looks like something Disney would market a 6 year old for a film like The Incredibles.  There are no bells and certainly no whistles but it "sings" when you get close to the problematic area.  At this point the entire household is on the front lawn watching Oscar locate this "unique" and "special" problem.  Wait for it....

The Department of Water and Power installed a 65 foot electrical pole atop our 100 year old sewer line. 

What this means folks is that LA needs to fix our problem.  But we need to convince them that this is in fact their fault. 
As Oscar explains the logistics of our situation he throws around the term "compromised" like it was the word of the day. 
"When your pipe has been compromised..."
"It appears the pipe was possibly compromised..."
"If a pipe of this age is compromised..."

I quickly realize that this word is going to become my word.  My stone that will hopefully take down Goliath.  It is a precarious predicament when one needs to prove that an entire Department, run by a city, is responsible for an OLD pipe that is no longer working.  Hence the dilemma.  We have to prove that the city is responsible for the repairs that have been estimated around $6200.  That's not chump change, that's a sh*t load of dough.  As a result I was given explicit instructions to go directly to the Public Works building and contest this development, demand repairs to be done by city, and get it done asap so we can flush our toilet because our sewer pipe has been "compromised".

So that is what I did, the next afternoon I headed straight downtown from work.  I pulled a ticket to wait for a verdict that might change the trajectory of this entire adventure.  Unlike the DMV I was called within minutes of arrival but quickly told that it wasn't Public Works' responsibility to fix my pipe but the DWP.  So naturally that would be my next stop.  Memories of college registration and dealing with the Bursar came flooding back and instinct kicked in.  Gotta find who can fix this and hound them 'til they do.

DWP customer service was helpful.  Surprisingly so.  An "emergency" dispatch was called to head to the house and would arrive during a four hour window.  Awesome!  I was also asked to fill out the claim form and send it to the address listed along with any pertinent information to help the investigation.  THE INVESTIGATION?  Your pole is sitting on my pipe.  My pipe that is 100 years old.  Never mind the age, this stuff lasts a lifetime when you don't "compromise" the pipe.

I thank this woman and turn to leave.  Before leaving the building I noticing the claim form address is in this building.  I decide to fill it out and hand it over.  I want to flush my damn toilet.  Within minutes I had the entire security team helping me fill out this claim form.  All six of them put in their two cents.  Who to talk to, how to phrase my problem and then a chorus of "good luck".  I head upstairs to the 3rd floor and enter the legal office for the DWP.  My knees are shaking because I fear I will open my big mouth and say something, anything that might prevent us from getting this sewer pipe fixed. 

Now, I don't know what happened that evening with the red gun or the news that this would cost us $6200, but something happened.  It turns out I have a super power.  I can convince anyone to do anything and do it with a smile on their face.  I'm like a redheaded Christopher Reeves, a shorter version of Ironman.  Maybe the potential of sewage in my home is enough of an incentive but I have a gift and I am going to use it.  Proof, you ask?  I left the office with three things in hand.
1.  A direct contact of the person who will be handling my claim.
2.  A promise from the inspector that he would make immediate calls to get someone over to the house asap.
3.  And a restaurant suggestion for the best Mexican food in Highland Park.

I'm golden.  Not so fast Red, now the real fun begins....