I saw this on Facebook last week. All the men I have seen this week are working very hard to prove it true.
Let's start with the carpenter I hired to finish the back porch project. No, let's start before that. This project was been ongoing for at least 7 years. Hubby John started it and walked away when it got too complicated. Son Bob restarted it at the beginning of this summer when he thought he had all the time in the world. He wasted a lot of that time, and then suddenly he had a job and summer school.
So I had to hire someone to finish it. I won't bore you with how many guys I called who never called me back, not even to say "no thank you." And I thank those of you who sent me recommendations, maybe one of those people will be available for the next project. If there IS a next project.
When I asked at the local ACE hardware store, they gave me a business card for someone who claimed "No job too small." He called me back and said he'd be here the next day with a helper and that they'd have the project finished by Saturday afternoon. It would take them 10 hours.
Uh huh.
It took 7 days. Three of those days he didn't show up because he had to babysit. But he didn't tell me that ahead of time, so I stayed home waiting for him. There was never a helper. To keep things moving I bought and painted all the trim boards myself. I went after all the supplies myself. The tools and the debris sat around waiting for the carpenter to be here. You know how much I love stacks of crap. One night there were thundershowers and I had to drag all this stuff under shelter. Myself.
The washer and dryer were taken out of the room the first day. I wasn't been able to wash clothes for a week. The lint hose was taken off the dryer, which made it convenient for lizards to crawl inside.
The carpenter was a very nice young fellow. I think the work he did was fine. And I know that compared to a friend of mine who has been waiting for years for work to be finished on her house, 7 days is not a lot. But hiring guys to do work drives me crazy.
When he finished the job, which wasn't really FINISHED because he puttied over the nail holes and left that for me to paint, he said, "Well we both know this took a lot longer than I originally estimated," and he handed me a bill for $600 more. Really? I didn't argue, it was hot and I was tired and had no diplomatic words to fall back on. It was either pick up a pen to write the check or pick up the machete.
When I get the last of the painting finished and some shelves installed, the back porch will finally look like part of a real house and not like the inside of some miner's shack. It won't be a spider haven and I won't have to rewash clothes if they fall on the floor. Yes, it was THAT bad and I tolerated it for YEARS. Give me a medal, please.
There is only one thing left to remind me how far we've come with this house. I left the door to the cellar in its original, peeling paint, just for old time's sake. This is the basement cellar.
I don't go down there, the stairs are too steep for my clumsy feet. Because the stairs are old wood I'd get slivers if I sat and scooted down them. The hot water heater is down there. John and I stored wine down there. Bob and his friends drank it 20 years later when they were old enough. Basement Wine is legendary around here, the measure used to designate how bad a wine can get. (Example: "It's pretty bad, but not as bad as Basement Wine.")
Bob cut a special board to go over the cellar door and suggested I should paint something on it. I did.
This will give all the stupid men a place to go when they finally drive me totally crazy.
Disclaimer: I don't claim that all men are stupid all the time. Just the ones I seem to end up dealing with when there's a project. That would include the guys at Home Depot and Lowe's.
13 comments:
W had something like that happen when we had the carpet laid, but a 'friend' of ours...he charged us more and then came back stole Terry's great grandfather's Winchester Gun. Since we didn't have the serial number recorded he got the gun for free. All our other neighbors have seen the gun, Ben is always banishing it around.
MAKES US so .....well you understand. (And yes our fault, I suppose.)
Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
http://deltacountyhistoricalsociety.wordpress.com
Some 'people' are crazy, some 'people' are stupid. I have never ever believed that being crazy or being stupid can be related to gender. In fact I find it quite difficult to attribute any behaviour specific to one sex. We constantly read that women are bad drivers. Not always so. Men are more aggressive? Not always true. You should meet some of the chunky women from Yorkshire!
And so on, and so on.
We're all a big mix of all types and temperaments and should all try to all get on together with each other.
Life is too short.
I hope you get it all sorted soon, whoever you choose.
Cheers...B (male) :)
Jan,
You are so right in your estimations!
Terry and Linda,
People assure me that workmen do not steal. HA! That is how I lost my ex's grandmother's diamond ring, right after I told him I wanted a divorce. I have forever been blamed with stealing it. Why don't you steal back the gun. I would even if I had to enlist friends to help me!
Bernard,
Let Jan be un-pc, sexist, whatever. Face it. Men start projects for others and do not come through as they said. Most of us women cannot complete a project. I won't start with examples.
I do understand the machete feelings!!!
She is correct even if she is upset. George Carlin said so!
"Chunky" women? Men are chunky, too.
Oooh, Jan, ground up lizards sounds yuk. Maybe they will run out when the dryer is moved!
I have similar projects unfinished for the last 35 years in this house! Somedays, I just go blind. Other days, I rage.
I think anyone's stupidity can make the rest of us crazy at times. Uncle B, you're right about life being too short to be feuding with people, or resenting them. Thank you for the reminder, though I think you might be stirring something up with your "chunky" Yorkshire remark.
I probably am provoked more by men because I'm surrounded by them, and in situations where their poor decisions have enormous consequences in my life: Caltrans, the electricity company (SMUD), the guys who run the dump, the guys at the county who always have some harebrained scheme for everyone else's property. The choice is to either hire a lawyer to deal with it all, or sort through pages and pages of documents to figure it out yourself. Right now I have 2 EIRs to read and write comments on in the next week.
On a personal level, I only expect to get what I pay for. Sometimes that works. The fellow I hired to reroof the house - Alex at AVC - did a fantastic job, had great suggestions, stuck to his estimate, finished the job on time, and cleaned up the mess before he left.
Adam (a friend) came out and installed my sprinkler system. He did a great job and I was so happy to be able to pay him for the work.
Steve from across the street did a fine job on my sidewalks.
Sergio doesn't just mow my lawn, he lets me know if he sees a problem and he's very thoughtful. He takes pride in doing a good job.
The guys at the corn stand are always kind and helpful. Why should these be exceptions?
I could go on, there are probably lots of "good guys" out there, for some reason they aren't the ones I find myself having to deal with these days. It must be a lesson I have to learn. What would that lesson be, though? Be nicer? Be more demanding? Do all the work myself? Take drugs that make me happy all the time so I don't care when things don't meet my expectations? Don't have such high expectations in the first place?
Sometimes it's easier for an outsider to see these things. What do you suggest?
Linda, I'd be so angry about the stolen gun. Please tell me it's not the same guy who almost burnt your place down.
I just remembered something. I had a air conditioner put outdoors in order to sell it and not have people in my house. Within three days, it was filled with millions of ants. I would worry about the appliances sitting outdoors. Bang on them and move them a bit before you take them in. It took me two days of banging and spraying ants before I got the ac free of ants.
I called two dozen roofers and only one showed up. For 17 months, he was "three weeks out." !!! Yes, maybe we women should just medicate ourselves to stand it. Be nicer? Smile more? LOL
Unfinished projects. We all have them. Sounds like you were extremely patient with the "fix it" people in your life. I don't think I've EVER heard any one tell me their contractor came in under budget or before the deadline.
Glad you finally got the worst of the job taken care of even if you had to do more than your share to see it through.
Leenie, maybe my expectations are wrong. I worked in the printing industry all my life in one capacity or another. Deadlines were very important, quality was very important. I would do whatever it took to achieve both, everyone I worked with had the same attitude. If a customer had unreasonable expectations, we'd talk about it and try to work out a solution. If I made a mistake, I'd stay on my own time to fix it to still deliver the job on time. I guess after a lifetime of trying to keep customers happy I'd like even a little of that treatment myself.
Here's an analogy: what if one of my printing customers had a two-color job. When he came to pick it up at the time I promised I handed him his job and a marking pen and said, "The pressman had to stay home and babysit for a couple of days so there was only time to print one color. Here, just take this marking pen and you can do the second color yourself." And then I wouldn't reimburse him for the second color, in fact I'd charge him more because of the marking pen.
I'm getting my knickers all twisted. I think I'll go watch a couple of episodes of Dog Whisperer. I don't have a dog, but Cesar Millan's philosophy puts me in a good state of mind.
I was referring to my Sister-in-law, who comes from Bridlington. :)
Uncle B, you must be confident that your chunky, aggressive sister-in-law doesn't prowl about online. I don't recall hearing you talk about siblings, for some reason I thought you were an adored only child. Maybe it's because there's only one baby in this picture by my computer.
Cesar was a big help last night. He was analyzing two Jack Russell terriers that live in the same house but hated each other. First he showed us that one dog was assertive and the other submissive. Then he showed that it was the submissive dog, because she built up resentment, that was more of a problem. The assertive dog might start a fight but was willing to calm down and walk away. The submissive (also neurotic) one would defend herself to the death and could not give it up.
Who needs a psychologist when you can hear Cesar, a cute little former illegal alien, free on Hulu?
As a stress reliever, I'm going to water aerobics this a.m. and see if someone will throw tennis balls for me to retrieve.
jan I've been meaning to tell you for quite some time how much I enjoy reading your blog, It always makes me chuckle (yes a true chuckle) and I can relate to so much of what you say. I needed some yard work done, there are neighbor kids anymore that would even consider such a thing, so I looked on craigs list, left messages w/several people only one replied (he got the job) I was amazed that no one else replied back. They must not be aware the job situation. We have quite a large community of vietnames here, my experience has always been a postive one, hard working on time, stick to the original price. I feel your pain in so many of your experiences. This may sound politicly incorrect, but I'm not political so there you go. Val Scott, one Merlene's little sisters
Six hundred bucks! Were you paying for the babysitting too? It seems a crying shame that even when we have hard earned cash available, it's still amazingly difficult to hire skilled men who will keep their promises and take pride in their work. Word of mouth is usually the best guide but even then things can go wrong as I have also discovered to my cost.
Val, so nice to know you're out there! I know you understand how hard it is to find people to work on vintage houses, though yours had such character and mine is a refurbished shack.
YP, it's very discouraging when you try to do the right thing and it simply refuses to be done. Having lived here all my life, I knew how much maintenance was involved so I worked hard to save some money and build up enough retirement to be able to live here as an old, cranky person.
Val is totally right about how handy some of the immigrants are. They know how to do real work. Our own kids learn nothing useful in school, the shop classes have mostly been closed so everyone can take academic courses and go to Stanford.
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