Let's play Spot the Difference:

Uh ... yes, okay, I see the right side of the wall is patched. And ... uh ... there's more crap sitting in the tub. But it is still not me sitting in the tub.

11:30 a.m. on Monday. No maintenance guy. Because he popped his head in half an hour ago to say that he won't be working on my bathroom today because he has to finish the other suite -- people are moving in to it tomorrow. Meaning I have no backup bathroom as of right now.

I said to the guy "So now I'm screwed."

"No," he says "I'll finish tomorrow."

(side note: look at what is left. do YOU think he'll finish tomorrow?!)

So I say "Okay. So tomorrow I'll have a sink and I'll have a tub I can bathe in."

"Yes" He says.

"Okay." What am I going to say? "Thank you."

"So I'll try to do it tomorrow." He just had to keep talking.

"Wait. You'll TRY?"

"No, I'll do it."

It's like he spoke out loud when he meant to just think the words "I'll try", and then when caught, decided to pretend I just had an auditory hallucination.

I mean, what am I going to do? It's not like I can finish it myself. And, isn't this exactly the tale every person in the history of home renovations has to tell? Nothing comes in on time, or on budget. At least I don't have to pay for this

-- although, maybe if I was paying I would have some recourse. "Thanks for your work", I'd love to say " but since you're unable to provide the agreed upon services, and have now admittedly moved onto another project prior to finishing this one, that does void the contract. I'll be bringing in another contractor. Have a nice day." Maybe that would get his butt back in my tub and working.

And before you mention I mention this to the manager ... she was standing right next to him when he said he'd "try" to finish tomorrow.

It could be worse. I could be working and have to try to figure out how to show up each day without stinking up the place.

Comments

A Picture Puzzler

A friend sent me another picture from the wrap party. As I looked at it, and recalled the good times, I was struck by something really unusual. See if you can spot it: I'll give you all some time to guess...

Batten down the hatches -- we're in it for the long haul!

Given that the weather reports for Edmonton this weekend are grim grim grim (lows of minus 33, highs of minus 25 -- with wind chills of around minus 35 to 40), I woke up early this morning to get all errands for the weekend out of the way in one fell swoop. I barely needed a coat this morning as I headed out to my car to embark on my mission. With each passing hour, the thermometer dipped a degree or twelve. By time I was done driving around (and paused to catch a movie at the neighbourhood googolplex), it was chill-lay outside. I am now snuggly boarded up in my apartment, with no plans to so much as peek my nose out my window until Tuesday (when the temps shall return to a balmy minus 15). Groceries? Check. Toiletries? Check. Magazines to curl up with? Check. Christmas Presents? Check. Lessee, I got my father what he's been asking for since I was old enough for him to give me his Christmas wish list: And I think my mother will enjoy her bungalow by the stream: For my sister and he...

And they called me mad when I bought the bunker in the woods!

I had heard that one way of thwarting telemarketers was to make them think the number they have dialed is in fact a fax machine. I've tried different tones on my cordless phone, all to no avail. Then I had an epiphany: When I turned sixteen, my sister bought me a new-fangled telephone. It had push buttons, but it was still just a rotary phone - when you pressed each button to dial, you still heard the rotary "tat-a-tat-tat-tat" with every number. I had held onto this phone ever since. It's cute. It works. There was no reason to get rid of it. I was willing to bet that, in this day and age of advanced technology rendering yesterday's device obsolete on a daily basis, a telemarketer - who is likely going to be decades younger than my phone - would be unable to even identify a rotary phone by sight much less by sound. And voila! Answering the phone with my rotary phone, and constantly pressing the buttons, the telemarketer kept repea...

A Skewed View

Search This Blog