The foreman asked: "Who here knows plumbing?"

I stupidly said: "I hate plumbing."

The foreman figured that I must know more than the intelligent guys staring blankly at his question.

That's how I became a plumber.

The masters of frustration-based profanity are all plumbers. I laughed when I read "Increase your vocabulary, become a plumber" on a bumper sticker.

Master plumbers can transform any word into a foul curse.

It was a sooty basement; I was trying to remove a leaky pipe. The gap between the 2X10s holding up the house were not illuminated by the droplight.

The pipe wrench stuck and slipped. My knuckles slammed against the 2X10.  My vocabulary increased.

My knuckles were throbbing and bleeding by the time I thought of Humphrey Bogart's smile as he was pulled the "African Queen" through a leech-infested swamp. This vision usually saves me from the sea of frustration.

I smiled.

The pipe wrench slipped again.

My vocabulary was about to expand again, when I remembered the words of a wise woman.

She said: "Before you say 'Goddamn' you should say 'Nam Myoho-renge-kyo.'"

I yelled "Nam Myoho-renge-kyo, Goddammit!" and threw the pipe wrench across the room. It clanked and fell to the floor.

I picked it up and twirled the band that tightens and untightens the wrench.

It worked perfectly.

It never stuck again.