Last weekend, my kitchen drain was clogged, so I called a guy who looked very honest to come and fix it.

He brought a very long spring drain cleaner and went straight under the cabinet without saying a word. Due to the tight space, half of his body was twisting outside, and the scene looked extremely bizarre.
I squatted nearby handing him tools, and he operated while also imparting "life experience" to me:
“Boss, let me tell you, this pipe cleaning is like dating. You can't just force it; you need to find the right spot, gently poke around first to gauge the depth. If you feel resistance, don’t rush to pull out; you need to turn it a couple of times with some rhythm.”
I was stunned listening to him. At this moment, his face was flushed, and he panted as he said:
“You see, this is what we call the ‘tight phase,’ where the buildup inside is too thick. At this point, you need to add some water to lubricate, then shove it in forcefully—”
With a plop, the pipe was cleared. The guy wiped his sweat, crawled out of the cabinet, and patted my shoulder earnestly, saying:
“Is it cleared? Remember this feeling. In the future, when you encounter this kind of clog-prone situation, prepare some long tools, act quickly, and be steady when inserting and pulling out. Also, next time, remember to wear a cover... I mean a filter net, or if you keep doing this, your pipes will eventually get damaged.”
Looking at the repair order in my hand, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had paid a few hundred dollars for some kind of indescribable technical training fee.