I haven't had a good record with finding handymen. You know, those jack-of-all-trades who can do everything from fix your leaky pipes to reattching the hinges to your super-broke lazy susan corner cabinet. (I'm not speaking in code, I assure you. Men with tools. Oh, forget it.)
The last time, I went with a guy our real estate agent referred to us and he turned out to be a) overpriced and b) sloppier than a cafeteria school lunch sloppy joe. It left a bad taste in my mouth. (And that's not counting the second hand smoke inhalation from his clothes. Altoid?)
So, it was with a certain wariness that I arranged a handyman from a chain handyman service to take care of some issues at our old place that we've rented out. Today, I met this joker at the house - 20 minutes past the promised window. I knew that he had to prime and sand a couple of areas of ceiling repair from various leaks (This house was well-built. Not.), wait for it to dry, then paint. On the phone, joker man said he would have about an hour of down-time so I suggested he come over to our place which is seriously less than 5 minutes away to do a couple of minor jobs. You know, there's a minimum of like 2 hours per job so I didn't want to waste any of it. It's like $80 an hour! DUDE.
Joker man, of course, is in no hurry to do anything and when I suggested that he come over to our house while the primer was drying, he thought there wouldn't be enough time. Just a few minutes, he said. OK fine. I settled onto the couch and decided to do some writing to pass the time.
Fifteen minutes into it, I hear him tinkering around in the downstairs bathroom. Must be cleaning some brushes or something, I thought. Then, I heard the toilet flush. Meanwhile, I had to run downstairs to grab something from my bag and nearly passed out from the horrid stench. The dude #2'd down there. What? You couldn't take care of this before? Seriously? It was HORRID and all kinds of wrong.
Fine, okay, being the forgiving type, I crawled back upstairs and replanted myself behind my laptop. Pretty soon, I noted that he had a blowdryer aimed at the ceiling, jerry-rigged on a ladder, and he was nowhere to be found. 10 minutes passed. I got up, stretched, and took a look outside the back window that looks down onto the back parking area and saw him lounging in his van, doors and trunk open for ventilation, smoking, flipping through a magazine, and sipping his coffee. FOR REALS.
I paced and fumed.
But really, what could I do? My expectations were fairly low and I just wanted him to finish and be able to go into work not too late. The primer was drying and I figured it just wasn't worth it to make a big deal out of it. Despite the fact that I probably paid at least $25 for his smoke and potty break combined.
All in all, another lovely experience with a handyman.


























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