As many of you know, I’m getting new carpet in two of my rooms. These rooms already have carpet. Carpet that needed to be replaced or seriously cleaned before I moved in. The carpet in my office is supposed to be pink. It’s not. It’s puce, or brownish-pink at best. My bedroom has black carpet (black, in a bedroom, I know, awful), which is filthy and has paint and sticky spots. My mom spent 30 minutes getting the gum out of one spot when she was here because I just couldn’t deal. What’s worse, it doesn’t fit the floor. It was obviously a remnant because at one end of the floor there’s a good 6-8 inch gap to the wall. And neither one was actually properly laid. There’s no glue, no padding, no tack strips, and it just lays against the walls…the molding wasn’t pulled up so it lays on top of it in parts. Whatever, it’s a rental. But the cleaning of it, yeah, that needed to happen.
So my landlady came and checked it out. She decided that it was in bad enough shape that for her interests, laying new carpet would be better. Great! Fabulous! She chose a charcoal gray obviously industrial carpet. Good quality, it will last, and who am I to complain? Remember, it’s a rental.
Last weekend the new carpet was supposed to be laid. Here’s the proposed chain of events:
Friday night – remove old carpet from office, prepare space for laying new carpet on Saturday
Saturday – new carpet in office, then move to bedroom
Sunday – clean up and do finishing touches
It didn’t happen.
Not only did it not happen, but things went horribly wrong. Horribly. Friday night, my landlady’s handyman calls at 6pm, when he’s supposed to be here, and tells me he’s running late, but will be here within the hour. Fine. Friday night traffic, whatever, I can deal with that. I’ll just eat dinner and wait. And wait. And wait.
He doesn’t show up until 9pm. Needless to say, no work got done, but the new carpet and some supplies were dropped off and he “checked things out” to see what needed to be done. We set a time for him to be here on Saturday morning: between 10 and 11am. Not too early, it is Saturday after all, and that gives me enough time to run an errand to the post office.
Saturday morning. I get up, run my errand, and arrive back home by 9:30am. I take the dog for a longer walk, and then wait. At 10:30am I call the handyman to let him know I’m home and waiting. He tells me he’s just getting up (what? you were supposed to BE here by now, but ok) and would be here within the hour. Fine.
Noon comes and goes. 1pm comes and goes. I attempt to reach him at 1:30pm and don’t get through, not even to voice mail. 2pm and then 3pm comes and goes. I’m still waiting and rapidly losing my patience.
At 3:30pm I’ve lost my patience. I haven’t heard anything from the handyman, and he’s not here. So I call my landlady and fill her in on what’s going on. I stress the fact that what I’m most upset about is the lack of communication. I have stuff to do. If he had called and told me he would be late, I could have taken care of a few things instead of sitting here on my butt at the house waiting. She’s not happy either. She wants the carpet done so she can move on to other projects. The laying of my carpet is just the first of many things that need to be done to her properties. She says she’ll call the handyman and get back to me.
At 4pm my landlady called back. Handyman had an emergency (family related), and will call me and show up to start work within the hour.
4:30pm the handyman calls. Makes lots of excuses. Whatever. I really don’t care. What I care about is the lack of common courtesy shown me. When you’re going to be late, you call. Duh. So what it comes down to is that someone needed to call me and let me know that he was going to be late. And not just late, but over 5 hours late at this point. He asks me if I can “salvage” the day. It’s 4:40pm on a Saturday. Um, no. It’s a bit late for that. My errands will have to wait until tomorrow. He says he’ll be here within the hour. I don’t believe him at this point, but say, fine, and hang up.
5:30pm comes and goes. 6pm comes and goes and so does 6:30pm.
At 6:45pm I call my landlady a second time and leave a message that he’s STILL NOT here. I stress that once again, the lack of communication is the real problem. And at this point, we’ve moved into the realm of UNACCEPTABLE. This needs to be dealt with. I ask her to call me back so we can discuss the situation and figure out what needs to happen.
6:55pm the handyman calls. He’s in the neighborhood and wants to drop stuff off. OK. Fine. Drop it off and then get out of my house. At 7:00pm he drops the stuff off and proceeds to give me more excuses. Not only did he have a family emergency [Note: said emergency occurred at around 1pm, a full 2 hours after he was supposed to be here], but he just “couldn’t get going” today. Apparently the full moon affects him because he’s a Cancer. If you believe in astrology and know this about yourself, then you should know better than to make commitments on days you know you’ll be affected. Duh. And ultimately, SOMEONE NEEDED TO CALL ME. I tell him I’ll call the landlady and reschedule.
At 7:10 he leaves. I scream. Literally scream at the top of my lungs. For a good 5 to 10 minutes. It scares the dog. Aussie goes and hides in her kennel she’s so frightened by me screaming like that (doesn’t happen very often, obviously). I’m so frustrated I can hardly stand it. I’ve taken my office apart, everything is back in boxes, my modem is living in my hallway, and I now carpet, padding, tack strips and supplies have taken up residence in my upstairs hallway. For at least another week until he comes back next weekend to actually do some work. I spent 8 hours on a gorgeous Saturday waiting for someone to show up and do work and it didn’t happen. If he was my contractor, I would have fired him by the time I called my landlady at 3:30 and would have called someone else in to do the work. You don’t just not show up for a job and expect to get paid. Seriously.
Sunday I call my landlady and leave a message, reiterating that we need to talk about what happened and figure out what happens now.
Monday night my landlady calls and we talk about what happened. I stress AGAIN that the real problem is the lack of communication. And that the handyman is perpetually late. PERPETUALLY. I’m always waiting for him. We’re not talking 30 minutes, we’re talking hours late. HOURS LATE. And it has to stop. I can’t deal with it anymore. She agrees. She also agrees that if he knows the full moon affects his ability to “get up and get going,” he should make appropriate arrangements and not plan things that day. She tells me she’ll call him and have a conversation and then she’ll let me know what’s up. She also thanks me for my patience and for dealing with things so calmly. She didn’t hear me scream on Saturday night.
Tuesday she leaves me a message that she was still trying to get a hold of the handyman. Wednesday night she calls, tells me she has him there, and that we’re going to try this again Sunday. We agree to 11am on Sunday to arrive and start work. I’m not holding my breath.
So the great carpet debacle continues.