And you thought only newscasters did it
As was mentioned in an earlier entry, my husband and I are renovating our home. We are not actually doing the work, but rather we hired a general contractor (GC) to take the architect’s drawings and have at it. We are adding a second story master bedroom and bathroom, back room with hot tub room and shower, as well as a front porch that could probably house a small family in the warmer months. Of course the part I am really looking forward to is the front porch. Don’t worry, I realize I have issues.
The general contractor and his subs have done a great job. The other day, a sub worked in the rain to make sure that we weren’t getting too far off schedule due to lousy weather. Also, they have been very respectful – meaning that they clean up when they are done for the day and they don’t come too early. May seem like little things but those are the types of issues that neighbors complain about to the township.
Here’s the interesting part. I get up between 5 and 6 every morning. My husband awakens between 7 and 8 AM every morning. The GC arrives between 7 and 8 AM every morning. One morning, my husband woke up and decided that he would smoke in the new addition (it doesn’t have drywall and plumbing yet, so he figures it doesn’t break the “no smoking in the house” rule.) So he throws on a flannel shirt and a pair of undies, then heads to the addition.
"Scott,” comes a male voice.
My husband looks around the addition, in a slight panic due to his outfit status. He stands there, cigarette partially dangling from his lips, searching the room for the voice’s owner.
“Scott,” he hears again.
Scott turns and looks out the front window frame (windows aren’t in yet) to find our GC standing below.
“I had a couple of questions for you … “
At this point, my husband realizes, he can’t see what I have on below my waist.
They continue the conversation, the entire time Scott prays that our GC will not decide to join him in the addition nor climb a ladder that is lying against the house's exterior.
“I’m done my cigarette. I’ll be down in a second.” Scott rushes to the bedroom, throws on a pair of shorts, and joins our GC in front of the house.
And you thought only newscasters were clothed from the waist up.
The general contractor and his subs have done a great job. The other day, a sub worked in the rain to make sure that we weren’t getting too far off schedule due to lousy weather. Also, they have been very respectful – meaning that they clean up when they are done for the day and they don’t come too early. May seem like little things but those are the types of issues that neighbors complain about to the township.
Here’s the interesting part. I get up between 5 and 6 every morning. My husband awakens between 7 and 8 AM every morning. The GC arrives between 7 and 8 AM every morning. One morning, my husband woke up and decided that he would smoke in the new addition (it doesn’t have drywall and plumbing yet, so he figures it doesn’t break the “no smoking in the house” rule.) So he throws on a flannel shirt and a pair of undies, then heads to the addition.
"Scott,” comes a male voice.
My husband looks around the addition, in a slight panic due to his outfit status. He stands there, cigarette partially dangling from his lips, searching the room for the voice’s owner.
“Scott,” he hears again.
Scott turns and looks out the front window frame (windows aren’t in yet) to find our GC standing below.
“I had a couple of questions for you … “
At this point, my husband realizes, he can’t see what I have on below my waist.
They continue the conversation, the entire time Scott prays that our GC will not decide to join him in the addition nor climb a ladder that is lying against the house's exterior.
“I’m done my cigarette. I’ll be down in a second.” Scott rushes to the bedroom, throws on a pair of shorts, and joins our GC in front of the house.
And you thought only newscasters were clothed from the waist up.
posted by Lisa Diane Kastner at
Monday, October 17, 2005
2 Comments:
How did you find someone who cleans up after themselves? When I lived in Baltimore, it was pig sty all the way. My landlord let a refrigerator repairman in one day without telling me, and I came home to find my newly laundered, 600tc sheets on the floor in a pile, covered in black oil. When I called up screaming, he said, "Well, he probably needed to wipe his hands." I got the service company's number and called them. The guy's excuse was that he figured those sheets stacked on my kitchen table were rags. Yeah, right. I always fold my matching sets of rags. (The washer and dryer were in the kitchen. "When I asked why he didn't just use the paper towels over the sink, he went off on me, swearing and actually threatening me, before hanging up. Similar things happened to friends having work done. Man, a workman who cleans up after himself...makes me want to move to PA.
By
Ruthie, at Tuesday, October 18, 2005
Wow. That's awful! I'm so sorry. This is a contractor we've worked with before and he always does wonderful work. And, he is very proud of the job - always a plus.
Where do you live? Maybe you should move to PA. :)
By
Lisa Coutant, at Tuesday, October 18, 2005
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