Toilets lead the list — worn flappers and fill valves wasting water silently, wax rings failing slowly enough to rot the floor around the base before anyone notices, and shutoff valves that have not moved in twenty years and no longer shut. Faucets follow: cartridge faucets across the corridor are reaching the age where Loudoun’s hard water has scored their seals, so they drip, stiffen, or groan. We carry the common cartridges and rebuild kits on the truck, because a faucet repair that needs a second trip for a fifteen-dollar part is a badly run job.
Then come the quiet ones: traps and drain arms corroding through under sinks — especially in 1980s townhomes where thin-wall chrome traps are now forty years old — pressure-relief valves weeping on water heaters, hose bibs that leak inside the wall every time the garden hose runs, and garbage disposals humming bravely while doing nothing. Each is a small job. Each, ignored, writes a bigger invoice later.