Tile man is the only one coming today, Friday. The contractor has finished with the cabinets; the trim man will be back on Saturday to finish his bit. The microwave is working in the dining room; the coffee pot in the living room (just like when I first moved in); and no sink. Maybe he'll be finished today. Here's hoping.
SF and I keep peeking. I'm not liking what I'm seeing. Express the thought to SF. "He's not finished." Okaaay. A completely inedible meal from E.W. James. The steam table was laden with leftovers from the day before. The shrimp, catfish, and onion rings were too crispy and tasteless. "We don't ever have to do E.W. James again." This, from someone who doesn't complain. Well, you just know that the kid ripped off a complaint to the corporate offices, right? Can't wait to see what the response is.
"Do you think that you'll be finished, today?" I hope it came out as pleasantly as intended. "No ma'am. I'll have to come back on Monday." A whole weekend with no plumbing in the kitchen. Help me, Jesus. Might not be so bad if there was somewhere decent to get a meal in town. Lawd. Lawd.
Do a thorough inspection when he leaves. Not happy. At all. Not with the work or progress. Having a full week off before reporting to the Ripley store (without pay, I might add) was seen as a blessing because the kitchen would be competed. Right.
The trim man shows up right on time on Saturday morning. A bright spot in this disaster. Until he announces that he doesn't have enough to complete the job. Say what? Lawd a mercy. Here's the deal. Load up this unused backer board; exchange it; and let's get it done. You know who made the drive, right? Poor Abby. She's a luxury vehicle; not a truck. Up the road I go with backer board hanging out of the trunk. Make the exchange and ride back. An hour and a half has elapsed.
Pull into the driveway to find the contractor has come back to check on trim man. Why didn't he arrive before I hauled that stuff back to D'burg? The decision has been made to fire tile man. I concur wholeheartedly. My trash can is filled with broken/mis-cut tile. Sheesh! Fortunately, the tile for the counters could be saved. No so lucky with what had been done on the backsplash. Mo' money.
He wastes no time in making it to the Big Rip. Here's the check for the counter tops. Why is he still standing around? Turns out he needs to talk to SF. His 10-yr-old had been raped by a 21-year-old. OMG! Never judge until you walk in one's shoes. Perhaps this is why he messed my job up so badly. I feel sorry for him and his family but the bottom line is...You're fired! And I still don't have plumbing and am waiting for another tile man to call.
To put closure to another disaster, the police chief and the board reached a settlement and that chapter is history. No word on who the replacement will be. Stay tuned for the ongoing saga.
Tired from being retired, already. Be safe. Be Blessed.