Now, I normally think that one's drains are one's own business, but when someone offers their expertise and I can barely plunge correctly, I'll take it.
Dad came by today and looked at the drain. He plunged for a good long while before sticking his finger down the drain. I shuddered.
Dad: Lots of hair down here.
Me: Yes, but that's not my fault. That's your fault. It didn't come from Mom's side.
After about five more minutes of expert plunging (I had no idea there was such a finesse to it!), Dad decided we might need to get the snake involved. (Luckily, my dad's the sort who has a snake.) As we talked about the snake, he monkeyed around with the stopper. Flipped it from the down position to the up. And unstopped the drain.
My only consolation is that Bruce didn't try that, either.