Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink

The following story is not a dramatization.

I happily agreed to install some shelving in a small closet under our stairs last weekend. A perfect home project - minimal effort, minimal cost, minimal time investment and a fair amount of gain in the organization department (something we are in sore need of it seems).

So, the family and I loaded ourselves in the minivan, then in the bright orange shopping cart of our local Home Depot. With a bit of cypherin' and some help from an orange apron clad gentleman on the business end of sheers, we purchased some cut to order wire shelves and the bangles and bobbles that go with them. Under a $100 later, we were on the way back home.

We cleared space to work, leaving plenty in the closet for lack of space to store it during the project, and I set to work. Got me my level. Got me my stud finder. Got me my hammer. Got me my Craftsman professional 14.4 volt variable speed cordless drill with 3/8 inch adjustable chuck. I was ready for business.

The first two pilot holes for brackets went smoothly. Everything was going as planned. Then, I made the mistake of continuing on with the project. On my third pilot hole I met a bit of resistance. "Wood," I thought, "I'll just set this this bracket into the stud". So, gave my drill a little shoulder action and popped a nice little hole in the hot water pipe heading upstairs. I didn't realize it at first - then, the sound caught my ear. A slight hiss, coming from my neatly drilled hole.

I bolted for the curb and the main shut off valve. Groping wildly didn't help me find the valve so I sprinted back inside to find a very small trickle coming from my neatly drilled hole. Confident that I needed to go grope wildly again, I bolted back to the curb. To no avail, I left finding the valve to my neighbor and sprinted back inside. I looked at my very small trickle coming from my neatly drilled hole and swung at it with my hammer in an effort to gain access to the leak. Access I found, along with a fire hose sized spray where the very small trickle had been. I reached into the wall, felt the hole and like the little Dutch boy, stood there with my thumb against the leak. Having new found time to look around, I saw through my drop filled glasses, water and drywall chunks and soaked carpet and sopping clothes, I saw stuffed animals, boxes of heirlooms and other items that don't do well with water. Then, on the wall just above me, I saw two nicely placed brackets for a wire shelf.

10 minutes seems like an eternity when you're holding back a flood with your thumb. Evidently, with the lack of my running around like an idiot, my neighbor and wife thought I'd taken care of things and went about their business - my neighbor to his Lay-Z-Boy and my wife back into the house. My cry to call a plumber was all she needed to understand my predicament, but the water all over the walls, and floor, and my pleasant appearance helped. After a quick call to the first plumber listed in the yellow pages, she went running back to the neighbors and together they found that stupid little buried water valve at the curb and turned off the water. My red, raw thumbs were grateful.

About half an hour and $175 later, the neatly drilled hole in my water pipe was repaired and I was on my hands and knees vacuuming up 6-7 gallons of water. A day later, I had the carpet ripped up and carpet pad in the garbage can. Another day and $300 later, the carpet man had the rest of it taken care of or drying. Now, all I'm left with is a 16" x 8" hole in my closet wall to patch.

And shelves to put up.