Remember last weekend when Joe Satriani saved me from re-caulking my bathroom tub? Yeah, no such luck this weekend. It had to be done. After work on Friday, I stopped at my local Home Depot and picked up one tube of white silicone caulk, and one 1.5 gallon bottle of Clorox. My dad had already given me the run down on how to use the caulking gun, but I've learned over time that when someone is teaching me something completely new, I really need to write it down. My ten minute caulk gun tutorial in the parking lot of The Great Impasta last weekend was no different and I really should have written all the important instructions down. Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of being able to take notes. My dad assured me that this was a "minor project" and that I would be fine. Later in the story, the lack of notes will come back to bite me. Oh yes...
Friday night, I was determined to knock this "minor" project out. After cutting out all of the old caulk (OMG, so gross) and taking more than half of the grout with it, I bleached everything into oblivion. It felt good. Things were going as according to plan. After letting the bleach dry, I was feeling pretty confident. I loaded the caulking gun...and then everything went to hell in a handbag...
Here's an important tip for all of you amateur caulkers out there: Before applying pressure to the gun itself, PUNCTURE THE TUBE'S SEAL. Otherwise, you will have one hell of a mess when you push the plunger of the gun through the bottom of the tube. Right after I called my dad in a semi-panic to ask for advice , I vaguely recalled him telling me what the little wire on the gun was for. Sonnofa....
The result: caulk EVERYWHERE...and worse yet, it was coming out a break-neck speed. I also forgot about the gun's pressure-release lever. So, with caulk streaming out all over my pants, shirt, hands, tub and floor, I had no choice but to begin caulking the tub.
I did my best with my very limited control over the caulking gun, filling in the spaces where grout used to be. It wasn't pretty, but it looked sufficient. I kept moving until I ran out of caulk. Only half of the tub was finished and I hadn't bought a second tube. Cursing loudly, I cleaned up as best I could and called it a night. (Side note: anyone ever try to wash this shit off of your hands? I'm fairly certain my hands will be waterproof until 2010)
I woke up the next morning, bought a new tube of caulk and a vanilla latte and finished the job. It's amazing how easy this whole caulking thing is when you know what you're doing. My bathtub now looks like it was caulked by two completely different people: one blind, double amputee that used her feet to operate the gun, and one who had done this sort of thing before. It's totally amusing. Whatever, though. The shit's done.
The best part of this EPIC FAIL story is that my dad called me afterward to tell me he was proud of me. I could easily have just asked him to do it for me, but he was proud that I tried to do it myself. Suddenly, I didn't feel nearly as foolish. Dads are good that way...
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