In 2000, I bought my townhouse. It, like most homes, came with a kitchen sink, which in turn came with a faucet.

At some point in my first year of ownership, the faucet developed a terminal leak (it was, unaccountably, a cheapie — sitting not 3 feet from a Bosch dishwasher, mind you), and I had it replaced with a fancy one from American Standard called a ClearTap. My new faucet was sort of stealthily fancy, actually; it looked normal to the unattentive eye, and behaved normally in the up-and-left or up-and-right modes common to single-handle faucets. However, if the operator pushed the lever to the right, laterally, with no upward force, it dispensed filtered water from a dedicated additional port — which, at the time, obviated the need for me to continue to do business with Ozarka, who had already acquired all the other water companies in Houston. Neato. Sold.

Well, at some point this faucet started leaking. I know this because, at some point, we developed some minor water stains in the ceiling on the floor below. I could never catch it in the act, and so thought (erroneously) it was something else. That changed last week, when we found the ClearTap filter housing steadily drip-drip-dripping water. Uh-oh.

I called a plumber (who does not, for the record, sell faucets). He poked, prodded, and investigated my now-aging faucet and pronounced its condition financially terminal. In addition to the ClearTap filter area leak, the sprayer also dribbles, and some friction mount parts in the main pivot are also failing. It’s theoretically fixable, but plumber rates are such that simple replacement will be cheaper.

Since (a) the filters for the thing are about $20 and (b) I tend to buy them in bulk, I’ve got about $100 worth in the pantry, so I went online looking for a replacement ClearTap, and found them nowhere. Ooops. I checked the AmStd site, and still no joy, so I called them to find out the scoop.

AmStd’s story — via the very nice Nancy — on this is that they dropped the product because they sold poorly (there are easier ways to get filtered water now, apparently), not because they leak. Then, without warning, the conversation got kind of odd:

Nancy: So, can I have your address and phone number?

Me: Um, why? Are you coming to fix it?

Nancy: (laughs) No, so we can send you another conventional faucet. We’ll also need a digital picture of the one you have so we can match it.

Me: Hang on now, what’s the cost?

Nancy: Oh, nothing.

Me: (speechless)

Yep. 6 or 7 years into its life — which, according to the plumber at least, is an acceptable life span; the cheapie that came with the 1997-era house only lasted 3 or 4 years — and well past whatever warranty it had, American Standard is replacing it, and doing so without me actually asking them to (I suppose this may be their way of compensating me for the $100 in filters I’m about to eat, but Nancy didn’t mention a connection). Wacky.